


Come Back To Me

by KarnsteinRosenberg



Category: Portrait de la jeune fille en feu | Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019)
Genre: 18th century Héloïse meets 21st century Marianne, A bit of Gyspsy Magic, AU Modern from chapter three, All Magic Comes With a Price, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Deja Vu, Devastatingly Romantic, Drama & Romance, Dèjá Visité, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Heartbreaking, Heavy Angst on Chapter 2, Pining, Recurring Dreams, Reincarnation, Romance, Romance Mystery with a hint of Magic, Slow Burn, Soulmates, Suicidal Thoughts, Time Travel, mention of depression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:07:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 27,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23836621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KarnsteinRosenberg/pseuds/KarnsteinRosenberg
Summary: One Love, One Flame, Two Souls, Many LivesWhen Héloïse chose the poet's choice, she knew it's the last time she would see Marianne... And the love they shared would be a distant memory of the past that she would forever cherish.  But what if, fate had been kind to Héloïse and gave her another chance to love Marianne freely and openly? Only, there was a condition.OR18th Century Héloïse was reunited with 21st Century reincarnated Marianne
Relationships: Héloïse/Marianne (Portrait of a Lady on Fire)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 96





	1. The Lover's Choice or The Poet's Choice?

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter Summary: (My crazy interpretation at) What could possibly happen to Marianne during the time she left the chateau after painting Héloïse's portrait, and how it end on the night she saw Héloïse at the theater listening to the orchestra performed Vivaldi's Four Season.
> 
> This fic is a product of my frustration after watching (many times) that heartbreaking ending, and of not being able to read a book version of Portrait of a Lady on Fire. So, I came up with a crazy twisted version of mine, it's nothing compared to the great story of Celine Sciamma, but I do hope you'll be entertained by it while in quarantine, and distract all the extroverts therefrom boredom.
> 
> I will put the name of the POV character at the beginning of every chapter. Thoughts are in italics. New tags would be added as the story progress, make sure to check before reading. Lastly, it's going to be angsty and bumpy. 
> 
> Take care and be safe.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Portrait of a Lady on Fire, the characters of Marianne, Héloïse, Sophie, the Comtesse, and all the mentioned unnamed men in the movie; they all belong to the Almighty Goddess of lesbian movies, creator, director, writer, Celine Sciamma. I am just borrowing them and not earning a cent from it. But I do own this crazy imagination and twisted story, and other characters in it.
> 
> Disclaimer/historical inaccuracy: First, I'm not an art expert. But I do love arts and going to museums. I'm not sure if the theater in the last scene of the movie is Rococo or Baroque Architecture. But since Italy is full of Baroque architecture, I decided to go with the latter. Secondly, I'm not a history buff. I just made the part about women painters were more in demand and accepted in Italy during the 18th century. If somebody out there knew about all these inaccuracies, you're welcome to share your knowledge. Thanks!

*****

**Marianne**

Did she made the right choice?

"Turn around."

Almost ten years had passed, but the words were still vivid in Marianne's mind… 

The first goodbye… 

Both of them chose the poet's choice.

A silent understanding between her and Héloïse as the chance of their love affair surviving in this world during that time was next to nothing. 

She cannot have Héloïse. It's the reality. 

But choosing to preserve the memory of her love, one last time was a reality. So, she turned around… and saw Heloise for the last time in the same image that kept haunting her… the love of her life in a wedding gown. 

She was devastated when she crossed the threshold and the door shut behind her. 

Then Héloïse disappeared in her sight. 

The closed-door and darkness signified the end of their love affair, and Héloïse, trapped in unwanted marriage… just like Eurydice was whisked back to Hades. 

But the memory of Héloïse continued to haunt her.

She thought it was the last time she would see Héloïse.

But then she saw her again… this time with a child. 

It hurt.

It hurt because another person made love with Héloïse.

It was one of the most painful moments she had experienced, aside from parting with Héloïse and losing her father. 

The portrait reminded her of the harsh reality that Héloïse was destined to marry and have a child of a man Héloïse did not love… 

And the reason she was in Bretagne after all…to paint Héloïse's engagement portrait that will hasten the marriage. …Which seemed a success.

How fate mocked her. 

Through her painting, she gave away Héloïse to a man. 

She gave away the love of her life, using her talent, using the essence of her love, using the intimate moments she shared with Héloïse unfold slowly before her very eyes, using the trust she built between them, …and using the moment Héloïse finally opened her heart to her and posed like they have known each other for life. 

If only she had a choice… she would just keep it for herself and tell the Comtesse she destroyed it again.

She considered Héloïse's portrait the very first masterpiece she created… and perhaps the last. 

It's not just collaboration between an artist and its model. The painting was the fruit of their love. 

Through this painting, she and Héloïse built their trust, friendship, and loyalty… through this painting, the unknown attraction and their love for one another developed and grew, at the same time Héloïse's portrait became 'alive' and close to her. The connection they shared while painting Héloïse's portrait was deeper than any other she had experienced before when painting a portrait. 

Héloïse was an elusive subject and a difficult model. 

During the time she finished Héloïse's first portrait, she felt like she betrayed her. When Héloïse finally agreed to pose for her, she felt relieved and somewhat absolved from mortal sin, and vowed to herself never to do that again to anyone. 

When Héloïse unexpectedly opened her heart and bared her soul to her, she considered it a gift to be relished and kept. Catching all those vulnerable moments and turning it to art was an honor. She knew Héloïse refused to be painted due to the betrothal, but also hated to be gazed upon and be scrutinized under a male gaze. After Héloïse gave her consent to paint the portrait, she was surprised, even thankful for the privilege, and the satisfactory result.

But after the painting was finished she felt something else… she felt possessive of Héloïse's engagement portrait. 

Ironically, she did not want anyone to see it. 

She did not want anyone to own it, but her. 

This portrait was not just her art, but her heart. 

Through this portrait, Héloïse gave her the right to paint her very essence. Heloise showed to her the side that others never knew. 

At the same time, she showed also the side of her that she never knew existed: she opened her heart and soul to someone, and gave her utmost love unconditionally and took the risk of being hurt deeply in the end. 

She knew the consequences, and yet, she still chose to love a betrothed noblewoman. 

If only she was brave enough to ask Héloïse to resist the marriage, she would not have been in agony. 

After many years the question still lingered in her thoughts… would Héloïse break the betrothal in favor of her?

As she gazed at the portrait of Héloïse and her child, she can't help but feel alone and abandoned. 

Does she still think of me?

She started to feel delusional. 

How can a noblewoman married to one of the rich aristocrats in Milan ever think of her again? They had a child, for heaven's sake, why would Héloïse still want to think of their past? 

Ten years had passed and yet she still thought of Héloïse and what might have happened if they have pursued their love affair.

Unshed tears were already forming in the corners of her eyes, as these painful emotions slowly consumed her. Perhaps Héloïse had already forgotten her and moved on… perhaps she had been replaced already in Héloïse's heart and it's only her who was still hanging on, hoping it will never fade away… their love. 

Just as she was about to turn around, her sight caught something that made her gazed back…

The book Héloïse held and the page that showed discreetly but significantly in between fingers. No one would ever pay attention to this small detail, except one: the person Héloïse wanted to see it. 

With teary eyes, she focused her gaze on it to confirm her doubt. She took a deep breath and managed to gather her composure as a small grateful smile crept in the corner of her mouth.

…Twenty-eight.

The story of love secretly hidden in a book.

Héloïse still remembered.

It gave her a sliver of hope, that Héloïse had not forgotten her at all.

After all these years, she could still vividly recall how the word 'twenty-eight' escaped Héloïse's mouth. It's full of desire, mischievous and yet alluring to her ears. During that moment it felt like they were the only ones on earth and their love for each other was fully exposed as they regarded one another while she revered Héloïse. 

That day was the culmination of their love affair. They both knew it was the last moment they can be together and exist as both lovers, and painter and its muse. Staring deep into her eyes, Héloïse posed for her for the sake of giving her an image of hers, a keepsake of their love… and in return a piece of their intimacy and the evidence of Héloïse's 'deep feelings' for her. Her eyes drifted over Héloïse's magnificent body, while she distractedly struggled to replicate it in all its beautiful glory. In return, she gave Héloïse the most intimate self-portrait she ever painted. She thought it would fade away in one of Héloïse's bookshelves or disappeared in locked trunks when Héloïse got married, or worst, be burned. But never did she expect Héloïse would hold on to it till now. 

Perhaps Héloïse was still holding onto their love?

She took out the precious brooch that she always carried in her pocket, and gazed at it while resting on her palm, and whispered, "I will always remember…" she closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, as her hand slowly brought the brooch to her trembling lips and kissed it like a delicate flower. 

She vowed to start a new life… to be happy and not sad anymore, just as she said to Amande many years ago, when her student turned protégée painted a sad portrait of her. And after Amande brought back the portrait of Heloise on fire from the stockroom, she was thrown back to the time at the feast around the bonfire… the dawn of their love. That night was one of the most emotional nights of her life, but it was also the most liberating and self-revealing. She and Héloïse both felt free and brave to acknowledge the feelings they have for one another. They discovered their strength in the female majority. It thrilled and inspired them. Being surrounded by those women in the field, and singing to their heart's content gave them confidence, made them stronger and be truthful to themselves. Beyond the bewitching chants, it aroused the feelings they have for one another. And beyond the fire, lies a passion to be discovered.

As time passed by and as she got older, she realized that, as a woman, they do have a choice.

Patriarchal society had been the enemy of freedom and choice. 

She and Héloïse were both victims of it, with Héloïse forced to marry a man she did not love, and she, using her father's name every time she showed her own paintings for exhibitions and go unrecognized. 

Despite the strong influence of society and the church, she slowly accepted that tradition could not dictate her anymore how she will live her life…

"Madam, we're here."

She was roused from her reverie by a man's voice, opened her eyes, and confusedly stared at the boatman standing in front of her. 

Slowly, her senses picked up the voices and sight of the other passengers grabbing their sacks, pouches, trunks, and belongings, as the boat docked by the jetty.

"Are we in Milan?" 

An old woman stood beside her and asked the boatman.

"Yes."

***

"Marianne! My dear, you have to wake up now. I have good news for you! We have a new client and the signora insisted for a lady painter to commission her child's portrait," a middle-aged stout but attractive brisk woman with dark hair entered the atelier by day and bedroom by night. "And there's a signora also who wants a French-speaking artist to teach her daughter how to paint and learn the French language too, because according to her it's the language of the elite and she wanted her daughter to become fluent in French!"

By this time, she had already grown accustomed to her employer's wife's lack of manners when entering her rented room. Giovanna was shorter by four inches than her, but the woman was full of energy and rather eccentric but in a good way. Thankfully her father taught her carpentry and she transformed one corner of the atelier into an alcove by using wooden crates, trunks, and curtains around her bed for some privacy. 

There was no use pretending to sleep again, and knowing how loud and persistent Giovanna's voice was, she decided to get up.

Yawning and stretching her arms, "I told you, I'm not ready to commission a portrait," she replied, after emerging from the improvised curtain surrounding her bed. The excitement on the forty-year-old woman's face vanished right away, as their eyes met.

"Marianne, you've been here for months and I've seen your works. They are a masterpiece!" 

Giovanna followed her as she washed her face at the porcelain basin on the table beside the alcove. 

"You're a very talented artist you can paint portraits on your days off, or in the evenings. Or Vittorio can temporarily take over your class for some days." 

She tried to ignore the comment and walked back towards the alcove. She opened one of the trunks and fetched some clothes. 

Giovanna was right and the truth made her uneasy. 

After her tragically romantic relationship with Héloïse, painful hard days of taking care of her father until his death, the anxiety and stress of selling their house and atelier in Paris, and resettling to a foreign country, she now finally found peace and time to enjoy life… in Milan. 

She was still relishing this quiet comfortable life… she wasn't ready yet to 'shake up her world'.

Not yet. 

Once she started accepting commissions from noble families, there would be little time, before the words spread in this group of people whose favorite pastime was not just commissioning artists to paint their portraits but gossiping as well. 

"I told you, I prefer teaching young girls because we need more women in the world of arts. Don't you agree?" She reasoned out and turned around almost bumping with the shorter plump woman. She evaded Giovanna's eyes and dried her face with a piece of cloth before walking again towards the table. But Giovanna was insistent and followed her.

She took a deep breath and saw the woman nodded repeatedly, but the look in Giovanna's eyes told her the persistent woman was not buying what she said. She raised her eyebrow and with a patience of a lamb, waited. 

"I agree, and my husband and I knew how dedicated and passionate you are about painting and teaching. That's why Vittorio agreed to work with you, because you're a talented artist, teacher, a good person… and your father was his teacher!" Giovanna quickly looked at the ceiling and made a sign of the cross and quickly mumbled, "May he rest in peace," and then faced her again without bothering about personal space. "Marianne… you've been like a family to us," Giovanna explained and reached out and their hands held. "I know you're still grieving about your father, and adjusting your life here, in Milan. I'm just telling you that your life doesn't need to revolve in the four corners of your atelier; you need to go out also. Vittorio has been talking to his artist friends and colleagues too, and they said the demands for female artists especially from France are popular nowadays."

By this time, she seemed to be contemplating but showed no sign of interest to Giovanna's news. She didn't want her to get excited at once. 

She came to Milan to establish her own name and never to use her father's name again when submitting her paintings for the exhibition. With her talent in arts and fluency in the Italian language, which she was very thankful for her father for working and living in Milan when she was young, she had more advantages and chances of becoming successful. Many artists have been flourishing in Milan because the Italians were more accepting of female artists than France… and many noblewomen preferred women painters. 

It just so happen that Héloïse lived in Milan too…

But it does not necessarily mean she would seek Héloïse and rekindle their affair, the woman had a husband and child already, she reminded herself once again of the painful truth. 

She was in Milan to pursue her career as an artist and made a name for herself… 

She convinced herself.

But what if she met Héloïse? 

What will she do? 

What will she say? 

What will she tell her? 

How will she take it? 

Will she have the guts to talk to her? 

Will she have the courage to approach her? 

Ever since she arrived in Milan she had been avoiding the inevitable. 

She hadn't prepared herself yet to all of these things. 

And she was afraid to know… 

Perhaps it's still too soon. 

Perhaps she needed more time to gather her strength. 

Because coming back into Héloïse's life however briefly would stir up some old memories and feelings too. 

"Marianne! Are you listening to me?!" 

Giovanna's loud impatient voice rudely interrupted her train of thoughts.

"Oh, pardon," she unconsciously switched to French, mumbled more apologies in her native tongue, and made Giovanna silent. Then she realized the woman just understood slightly of what she said. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that again."

"I said there's an orchestra that will perform in the court theater next week," Giovanna's voice was full of excitement, and took out a piece of paper from her pocket. " … Only the nobles and the rich can afford it. But Vittorio's best friend works there and he gives away a complimentary ticket every now and then… Here, you should go. "

She stared at the piece of paper that was being offered to her, and then shifted her gaze back to Giovanna, "No, thanks. I'm busy."

"No, you're not," Giovanna insisted and put the ticket on the table. "I'm going to leave it here and you better go because it's on Friday night, and you don't teach on Saturdays."

"But I need to prepare for the class on Monday," she stubbornly explained. 

Giovanna shot her a glare and she knew the persistent landlady of hers won't take no for an answer.

"Marianne, you've been here for almost four months," Giovanna started her litany. "The only days you go out, are on Saturdays when you need to buy art supplies or food. You don't even go to Church or socialize or make friends outside. And when we're at the market, you ignore all those handsome men that want to get to know you, and you decline any potential courtship that comes your way. Don't you want to get married?"

The last sentence annoyed her, as usual. 

Wherever she went, people always asked the same question. "Well, I thrive being alone and value my alone time," she retorted as calm as she can, even though Giovanna was already getting in her nerves. "And no… I don't want to get married and I'm not interested in a man's company. I preferred painting and working inside my atelier."

"At least try to be normal and gossip like the other young women of your age on Friday nights."

Giovanna's snarky comment made her more irritated but when she looked at her they both can't control the laughter that followed. 

"I mean, go out on a Friday night, for heaven's sake!" Giovanna never gave up and flashed a smile that easily captured everyone's heart. The woman might be loud and persistent, but one can't say no when she already smiled. "You don't need to go out with a man. But go to theaters, go to museums, go to concertos, listen to beautiful music… eat a delicious risotto alla Milanese and enjoy a bottle of Prosecco! And then you can go back to your paintings and hide again in your atelier for five days!"

She cannot deny the ability of Giovanna to be persistent and she knew she would be nagged endlessly if she did not do what her new friend told her. "Alright, I'm going," she conceded and smiled earnestly. "Thank you very much, and tell Vittorio too, I appreciate both your generosity and concerns. I know that sometimes I can be stubborn, but thanks for also putting up with me."

"Ah, Marianne, you're a family. Family takes care of one another. You don't need to thank me." Giovanna stated in a rich Milanese accent.

Giovanna hugged her and kissed her on both cheeks and made her crimsoned. It touched her and almost made her cry. She did not expect that she could find this kind of people that considered her not a stranger but a family. She nodded to show her appreciation and Giovanna released her and smiled contentedly before turning around.

"So, what will they play in the concerto?" she asked before Giovanna could leave the atelier.

Giovanna turned around and giggled excitedly, "Vivaldi. You will love it."

What a coincidence.

***

Milan was beautiful… and so its art, theater, music, and orchestra.

But best of all Milan was a city full of music and rich in culture. 

She recalled telling Héloïse… one cannot describe music but had to experience it. 

She was just a girl when she heard for the first time from her father about the culture and life in Milan, it piqued her interest instantly. But she was not allowed to go to theaters and see it for herself. She was still young then. 

And now, as an adult, she will soon experience it for the first time, in Milan, although she had been in many theaters in Paris and listened to many concertos and orchestra, nothing was more exhilarating than listening to her favorite music in the country where her favorite musician and composer came from and in the place where Milan was known for… stunning theaters and Opera houses.

Clad in one of her finest dress, she made her way among the spectators on the balcony of the horseshoe-shaped theater. 

She sat among the group of men and women chatting, some of them speaking in Italian and others in Milanese. 

Quietly, she observed her surroundings, just like she always did when she was inspired to paint the scenery. The Baroque architectural style dominated most of Italian theaters and buildings. The refinement in detail of the stage and of the Renaissance horseshoe-shaped auditorium and seating plan was the prime characteristics. The attention to detail and every element was treated to be of stunning beauty. Three shallow balconies were stacked vertically in the auditorium. The whole theater could probably accommodate an audience of 300 that can experience Baroque court theater culture and acoustics genuinely; the combination of two artistic novelties. She was thankful that she came. 

But despite the grandeur and the exuberance surrounding her, a particular sight seized her attention on the balcony across her. The lady maneuvered her way into the narrow space between armchairs and seated audiences, making her way towards the end of the balcony. The lady sat at the farthest end of the box, never looking around the audiences murmuring around and below but focusing only on the stage and ignoring everything around.

She never released her gaze at the image. 

The sight of her sent a shiver down her spine.

By this time her heart was already pounding madly. 

As if conjured by her very thoughts, she appeared.

And despite the distance between them, she recognized her… her heart told her so. 

Héloïse.

Never had she expected to see her again. 

Her breath was almost taken away as she focused her sight fully on her face. 

God… Héloïse had aged beautifully and elegantly, like a true noblewoman. 

But the sadness in her eyes was undeniable. 

It made her worried and she fidgeted on her seat. 

She prayed to all the angels and saints that their gaze met. 

But Héloïse never tore her eyes off the stage, as if waiting eagerly for the storm to claim and swallow her sorrow.

She didn't see me.

She mumbled to herself, crying in her thoughts if only she could shout and get Héloïse's attention. 

Restless and stirred, she watched Héloïse patiently. She felt frustratingly helpless as she gazed at the woman she loved and adored intensely. She now found herself not a painter, but just a mere observer, and Héloïse as the object and the audience as the large space between them. 

If only she could reach Héloïse. 

And before she could even think about leaving her seat and disturbing the audiences seated before her, the theater fell into silence.

The orchestra began performing Vivaldi's first concerto of the Four Season: Spring, described its freshness and beauty… a cheerful and joyful rhythm.

Eyes still fixated on the balcony across her, she helplessly watched the stoic and sober expression of Heloise. 

A heartbeat later, the orchestra began to play her favorite. Summer. The Allegro non-molto described the fierce heat of the season, sweaty farmers, and the song of birds. But it suddenly shifted, describing a ferocious thunderstorm and violent hail. And this time she noticed some movements from Héloïse as if anticipating the coming storm. By the time the violent struck of the violin began playing Presto, she noticed already the heavy rise and fall of Héloïse's chest, and how her favorite piece captivated and stirred Héloïse's emotions deeply. 

While Héloïse was too immersed and consumed by Vivaldi's Summer Presto, she, on the other hand, cannot tear her eyes off the beautiful melancholy face of the love of her life. She felt her heart storming against the walls of her chest. There's this overwhelming of emotions that she was witnessing, and she cannot tell if Héloïse was thinking of her, or their lost love, and the heartbreaks that came with it… or Héloïse was just carried away by the powerful music. All she knew was she played this piece to Héloïse and made her smile for the first time. 

Eyes still fixated on Héloïse, her hands grasped on the armchairs tightly, as the music became louder and tremendously powerful, so was the feelings that Héloïse was eliciting. She cannot imagine how intense Héloïse might be feeling right now, as she became witness to Héloïse's agonizing reaction to the music that she loved. There was sadness, a brief smile, longing, and more melancholy. When the music halted to its end, Héloïse exhaled deeply as if the feeling of elation washed over her. As if everything came to an end…

But there was something else that worried her but didn't understand about Héloïse's last expression. Until now, Héloïse was an enigma to her. Whatever Héloïse was experiencing right now was greatly affecting her too and her intuition was to go to her and touch her. But her hands were tied. And it upset her the more time she sat and waited for the orchestra to finish, the more frustrated and mad she became. She just wanted to run to her, put her arms around Héloïse and console her!

From the heat and storm of Summer, the orchestra shifted into the cool, upbeat and joyful tone of Autumn, describing how the crops survived the summer storms was a relief. But there was nothing relieved in what she felt at the moment. She was still frustrated and worriedly engrossed and captivated by the sight of Héloïse.

As the alarming scenes unfolded before her eyes, she came to a decision. She cannot just sit there and do nothing while she watched Héloïse go through whatever pain the love of her life was experiencing now. 

She had been wondering before what to do, what to say, or what to tell when she finally met Héloïse again.

Now she knew the answer.

One life. 

That's all she had.

And she intended to live this precious one life in her own ways. 

Morality and tradition be damned. 

Héloïse did not choose to marry this man and hated the fate every noblewoman was chained to. 

Héloïse was not given a choice. 

But she had.

If men can choose and decide whomever they want to love and marry, so can she. She too can choose whomever she can love, even if she cannot marry. 

Nobody can stop her from loving Héloïse. 

She will fight for her own right and their love. She did not care if Héloïse was already married and bound to this man. If the feeling was still mutual and Héloïse agreed to rekindle their love affair, she would gladly accept it. Even if she had to secretly share Héloïse in the eyes of the society…because deep inside she knew there was only one in Héloïse's heart. And it's time for her to reclaim that spot and fill the void again.

She was torn from this intense rumination when Héloïse suddenly rose from the chair, and she realized the music had stopped too. The concerto was finished. The audiences began to rose from their seats and leave the theater. And the crowds began to swallow the image of Héloïse. 

Merde!

She began to panic as she watched the love of her life began to disappear from her sight.

Sweating in pain, heart-pounding she ran after Héloïse. She was determined to claim back Héloïse. After witnessing the devastating scene of Héloïse at the balcony she could not just deny the pain the love of her life had experienced. She felt it too. Every drop of Héloïse's tears and, every exhaled deep breath implied heartache… it's unbearable to see.

Thoughts in terrible turmoil, she fought her way out to walk ahead of the growing crowds that started to go out of the theater. She did not release her stare on that familiar golden hair that was heading towards the exit hall. After all these years, she had imagined how she would meet Héloïse again, how she would react, how she would feel, and what she would do. And now, she already found the answer…

I'm not letting you go again.

They were too young when they parted ways, and helpless and victims of the norms of the Church and society they lived in. This time she would fight for her right… the right to love Héloïse.

Héloïse, I'm coming.

She continued to squeeze in between people and she didn't give a damn if she had pushed them, the only thing in her mind and heart right now was to reach the love of her life, and tell Héloïse that everything would be alright, and she was here, ready to confess and reclaim the love they were deprived of. The society cannot dictate anymore what and who she would love. She had been weak and a fool to let go of Héloïse at that time. But with the confidence and intellect of a mature woman, and after witnessing Héloïse succumbing into pain moments ago, she cannot just sit there and let the love of her life wear away in sorrow. She had to save her; save Héloïse from the pains of this marriage, save them both for wasting their time and lives not loving one another… she had to love Héloïse again and not the memory of their love. She just had to have her back or she will go mad. 

Still struggling to fight among the crowds of people, she looked again at the golden hair that she adored so much, making sure Héloïse was still in her line of sight. Just a few more steps and they were already outside. She could already feel her heart beating out of her chest, she could already smell the sweet scent of her love, she could already feel the warmth of Héloïse's body against her, she could already imagine the intense green eyes gazing back in surprised and yet full of excitement as the distance between her and Heloise became shorter, nearer and…

Just like Eurydice..., Héloïse was whisked back in the dark as soon as she stepped outside.

No, no, no, nooo!


	2. How Do You Say Goodbye To the One You  Love?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened between the times Héloïse told Marianne 'turn around', and after the night she went to the theater?  
> Does Sophie know?

**Tags/Trigger/WARNING** : Heavy Angst, Suicidal thoughts, Grieving, Depressing. I strongly suggest that you skip this chapter if you think these emotions can trigger/affect you in a negative way. If you would like to have a brief non-detailed summary of this chapter, just let me know in the comment below, and I would gladly reply to your request.

***

**Héloïse**

Almost ten years had passed, but the words and the image were still vivid in Héloïse's mind…

"Turn around."

Thereupon Marianne turned to bid her farewell… eyes smoldering in pain, and just like Orpheus... her beloved chose the memory of her, accompanied by a broken heart and despair.

Choosing the 'Poet's Choice' was easier, she thought… to save them both from agony and heartaches. 

A silent understanding between her and Marianne as the chance of escaping from her mother and betrothed was impossible. And the probability of Marianne saving her from her marriage after she asked Marianne if she wants her to resists was futile. They were both young, inexperienced, and doubtful. 

Just like Eurydice might have done, she chose the poet's choice, convinced that she and Marianne cannot live together as lovers, and instead, she gave Marianne the memory of an ultimate love story.

She thought it was the right choice…

… and that when she got married, this feeling, whatever it was she was feeling for Marianne, would gradually fade away… Just like the summer storm that violently arrived and swept away everything, she expected it will pass and calmness will come afterwards. 

But it never did. 

Her world was still in chaos. 

This forbidden love constantly haunted her. 

The memory of Marianne and their beautiful love affair echoed in her life. 

It lived with her.

It actually sustained her. 

It helped her to survive in this marriage. 

It made her duty to her husband bearable, by filling her thoughts with nothing but Marianne, imagining it was Marianne who was kissing and making love with her. And after her husband was satiated, she always sneaked out of his bed and goes back to her room to 'read' her book, so the image of her beloved would appease the heartache and revulsion she felt every time her husband claimed her. Until now, the only thing that kept her sane was the thought of Marianne making love to her. 

If it had not been for those beautiful memories she and Marianne shared ten years ago, she would have gone mad living as a wife in a foreign land. Part of her days as a married woman was delegating work to Sophie and the whole household, going to concertos, and attending feasts with her husband. And the most important thing of all, according to her mother, being committed to her husband's interests, show care and attention to him, and obey his every desire. Her mother never lacked advice on how to become a good wife. 

But when her husband was away, she always locked herself in the palazzo's library and read every book she can find as a way of distracting herself… and she often daydreamed of all the precious moments she and Marianne shared while in Bretagne. And once it got dark and she found herself without the company of her husband and alone in her bed, she always had these lustful thoughts of Marianne touching her… how Marianne's kisses were so soft, but possessive and yet not dominating, how Marianne's gentle touches ignited her body with just a mere touch on her hand or hair. She missed all of it. But above all… she missed Marianne's gaze. 

Back when they were in her family's chateau, there was never a single moment that Marianne would not look at her, even after finishing the last portrait. She loved how Marianne's eyes caressed her soul. There was no one in her life that made her felt so naked, so vulnerable, so hypnotized and so liberating except the way Marianne gazed upon her.

Marianne's gaze always conveyed warmth, awe, reverence, and wonder. It awoke emotions she never knew was there, it's like Marianne had some sort of power over her that she cannot fight, but to just surrender and give everything she had.

That day, when Marianne held her hand after helping her climb down the narrow steep cliffs of Bretagne, she had to release Marianne's hand for fear of burning. Her body felt on fire after spending that magical night around the bone fire feast. She had no idea what came over her, but the chants were enchanting and arousing. She still recalled how Marianne's gaze was profoundly intense that night as if conjuring her, daring her to kiss her. She wanted to but had to strongly refrain herself for fear of shame and embarrassment. But when they finally kissed, and only the rough sea and the sun the sole witnessed to their 'misdemeanor', she cannot deny anymore this intense feeling she had… a thirst and hunger that needed to be satiated.

Only Marianne had the ability to evoke such powerful emotions from her… even after a decade, she still yearned for Marianne's touch. The only person who owned her heart and body… the only touch that made her react violently. 

If only her husband knew to whom those moans were for. She had been an expert on pretending to make love with him, up to the extent of imagining Marianne's face that was underneath that beard and sharp jaw, thankfully he had dark hair too. Sometimes she feared that she might have uttered Marianne's name instead when climaxing. But even if she did, her husband never asked, perhaps because a woman's name didn’t threaten him. And Filippo loved her so much that he accepted her 'bizarre French way' or anything she said and demanded, even agreeing to her condition of sleeping in separate bedrooms. And when she was done with her duty, she always leaves his bedroom and never slept once with him after they copulated. 

Honestly, she never wanted to taint the memory of her and Marianne's aftermath of lovemaking. Her husband can claim her body. But he will never have her love. 

For her, the act of making love with someone was not only the most intimate moment but also the moment after the lovemaking... Just like when Marianne would gather her around her arms, and she would nuzzle her nose at the nook of Marianne's neck and smell her beloved's scent until she fell asleep. Or the times when Marianne would seek out the warmth of her bosom and would just lay on top of her. She would never forget also how possessive Marianne's arms around her waist when they fall asleep, and she was always enveloped in Marianne's warmth like a little spoon. But most of all, the small talks and how they opened up their feelings to each other after every lovemaking was the most wonderful part of being intimate with someone. For her, this moment was the most sacred one, for she's at her most vulnerable state… everything was exposed… her body, her heart, her soul, and her aura. And only the person she loved had the right to witness her like this.

If only she can turn back the time and totally refused this marriage and ran away with Marianne. 

She could imagine how shocked and furious her mother, and how defeated both her fiancé and mother would be. Just fresh out of the convent, she went straight ahead to becoming rebellious and liberated …never caring about anyone's feelings except hers… never bothered being called selfish, ungrateful, and wild... 

Sometimes she wondered if her sister had felt this way. She hated her sister before, for leaving her fate to her. But now she fully understood why her sister took her own life. She would too if it had not been to Marianne's love. The short time they spent together had made the greatest impact on how she viewed life before and after Marianne came into her life.

Marianne was her life.

Without the love and the beautiful memories they shared together, she did not know how she would go on with her life now. 

Marianne gave her the strength to face her destiny. 

She always considered herself a survivor in this turbulent world. Not only was her marriage a disaster. There were so many tragedies in her life too that she never thought of overcoming but she eventually managed to survive. 

She was just ten years old when her father was killed and the convent had been her source of strength and support. Her life in the abbey was more bearable than being outside that's why her mother decided to let her stay inside. But when her sister died, she not only grieved for the loss of her sibling but also the loss of her freedom. She never wanted to marry. Her life inside the abbey was the life that she imagined for her. She didn't just enjoy the wide range of books from the abbey's library, but she also found peace and discovered the value of equality among the nuns. That's why she hated her mother for ruining her dream and taking back her freedom. 

But despite everything that happened, she was, in a way, thankful for her mother for commissioning a 'secret' painter that will paint her engagement portrait. 

When Marianne came to her life, she never expected someone can literally and figuratively paint her gray life with lots of lovely colors. It gave her hope and changed her outlook in life. Marianne showed her that life can still be beautiful despite what the future holds as she discovered a love she never thought existed. 

After her sister's death and the announcement of her betrothal, Marianne's love contributed a lot to the recovery of her emotional and mental well-being. It healed many wounds and helped her fight her inner demons. Despite the short time they have been together, she considered Marianne not just her lover, but her savior… her life. 

Without Marianne's love and comfort, she could easily succumb to madness and would have jumped off the top of a cliff…

…and that's what she was considering now.

The thought of it had been nagging her for the past months when another tragedy hit her life again. 

Federico was the only one she loved most in this world next to Marianne. When her son was born, it gave sense to her meaningless life and made it easier for her to accept her role as a mother than a married noblewoman in a foreign land. Her son was the only one that made her days bearable, and meaningful, together with the memory of Marianne's love. But when an unknown illness claimed him, her life was turned upside down the day he passed away. 

Her life was cursed. 

She was convinced that she will never be truly happy. 

Fate was always testing her… and perhaps God too. 

She was constantly surrounded by tragedy and she always managed to survive.

But this time it was unbearable. 

She had been grieving for over two months now and she felt she will slowly succumb to madness if she did not do anything about it. She was becoming delirious and depressed by the day, and nothing can comfort her, not even her husband. Not even the most elegant and expensive jewelry or a trip to an exotic land can entice her when Filippo asked her to join him on his business trip. The loss of her child cannot be replaced with it, she furiously explained to both her mother and Filippo, and begged them to leave her alone. 

This time, nothing can ever appease the pain and grief that she felt… except for Marianne.

Heartbroken, desperate and grieving, she did not hesitate to send Sophie to France as soon as her husband left for his business trip. 

Her decision was final. 

She will leave Filippo. 

There was no reason anymore for her to stay in this loveless marriage. For ten years, she obeyed her mother's wish and her husband's desires; she had been a good daughter, mother, and wife, and now she needed to reclaim back her life and freedom. She wasted already ten years of her life pretending to be someone she was not. And now that she was at her lowest point in life, there's only one person that she knew could save her from drowning in her own sorrow. 

Sophie warned her, that this decision would not only bring her trouble but will cost her life too if caught. Everyone knew that Filippo was not just a wealthy merchant with good connections and strong influence, but a possessive lover too. He loved her to the extent of pampering her with everything she desired in life. They still recalled what happened last Christmas when they hosted a party in the palazzo. Filippo threatened to kill a friend when he caught him giving her a lecherous look. 

But she told her trusted maid and only best friend that she would rather take the risk of reuniting with her long lost love, and die in the process of doing it, rather than staying in a loveless relationship. 

Packed with determination and few clothes, a pouch full of livre coins, and a letter wax-sealed with her signet ring, she desperately sent Sophie to search for Marianne in Paris. She instructed Sophie never to return to Milan until the letter was delivered to Marianne and a reply was written. She was confident that Marianne would not deny her request. And if ever Marianne was already committed to someone else, she would accept and respect it, even if it hurts her. But as a friend, she begged Marianne to save her from ruining her own life. 

And if… ever… Marianne was not committed and was still fond of her, she would happily rekindle their love affair, confessed to Marianne that she was the only person that ever made her feel alive. And if Marianne will have her, she would live with Marianne wherever she liked and away from her mother and husband. She knew it was a very bold thing to ask, but she only had this chance and she would take all the risk just to be reunited with Marianne. She had waited for ten years to gather this courage and there was no turning back. As soon as Sophie handed Marianne's letter to her, she would decide right away to travel back to France.

And today was Monday, the day Sophie was scheduled to arrive. 

Faced with the reality of the situation, she paced to and fro across her bedroom, while rubbing her chin. She had not given a thought yet how she and Sophie would escape. All she knew, they have at least one more week before her husband arrives. 

Heart pounding, she gazed outside the window and watched the sunset while she began to devise a plan.

She needed money. It's the first thing that came to her mind. 

Despite not receiving any from her husband, her mother made sure that she had all of their family's jewelry, heirlooms, valuable paintings, the deed to their chateau in Bretagne, and a large amount of money that she inherited solely from her father, as a part of the huge dowry she brought with her into this marriage. And now that this marriage would soon be dissolved, she would take back everything her family-owned and would start a new life with Marianne and Sophie. But first she needed to find some trusted people that will help her and Sophie with their plan. 

Fingers pressed together forming a steepled shape, pointing upwards; she resumed walking to and fro in the high ceiling room with a balcony overlooking the garden. She knew Sophie liked a certain boy from the French bakery that supplied their bread and pastries. Sophie always talked about him as being kind and infatuated by her that he asked her to marry him every time he saw Sophie. She would ask him and pay him a generous amount to make sure his loyalty was with her. And when they finally arrived in France, she would ask Marianne to meet them in Paris, and from there, they can plan everything they like, such as where they would live, of course, she would take into consideration Marianne's line of work. 

They can live wherever in France except for Bretagne, maybe in Paris, but her mother would find her there; perhaps they can move to Spain or even in Greece, or Austria, wherever Marianne wants to live, she will live there too, except in Italy. She will never come back to Italy, not even if her mother summoned her. She hated her Italian root. Being half Italian and half French was a curse. Her mother's wish of going back to Milan was fulfilled by marrying her off to a Milanese. Her mother could have chosen a French husband for her, so she did not have to move out of France, but no, her mother chose instead a man from Milan, so her mother could go back again to her native land. And it infuriated her that she had to sacrifice both for her sister and her mother. But this time it was her turn to seek her happiness. This time she got to decided what to do with her life. This time she will decide whom to love and where to live.

The sound of footsteps walking on the marbled tile floor slowly approaching her way jolted her out of her reverie. When she turned around, the sight of her maid instantly lifted her spirit.

"Sophie! I am so glad to see you! "

Never had she been so happy to see her only friend, until now. Still holding a sack and disheveled from the long, hasty, and rough journey, she ran towards Sophie and embraced her best friend tightly, causing the sack to fall. 

"I hope you had a safe journey. What took you so long? I thought Marianne might have asked you to stay longer in Paris… but alas, you're here!" After her excitement subsided, she released her maid, and just like a child on a Christmas day, too excited and impatient to open its gift, she faced Sophie with so much energy and for the first time in months, she can't help but smile wide…

"So, did Marianne say yes?!" She asked excitedly, reaching for Sophie's hands, and took them eagerly in both her hands. The anticipation was killing her, she had been restless for almost two weeks, and when she received a message yesterday of Sophie's return, she cannot stop thinking about Marianne and her new life with her beloved. She would soon be reunited with her long lost love and nothing can stop her now. 

But her smile and excitement subsided when she noticed the quietness around them. And when she focused her attention on Sophie and caught the serious expression of her maid… 

Her heart began to beat faster. 

"Please, don't let me wait, give me the letter." She extended her left palm in front of her maid. But when Sophie's head shook from left to right, she began to panic. "I said, give me Marianne's letter." She begged with a worried frown.

"Héloïse…" Sophie uttered carefully in a low tone and waited for both of them to calm down by taking a deep breath. "I have never met Marianne."

She shot Sophie a fiercely stare and felt her stomach turned upside down, but she still managed to compose herself. "I told you never to return to Milan without Marianne's answer, why did you-"

"Marianne was not there. She's gone. "Sophie filled in quickly before it became a heated argument. "I went to Marianne's house and then to the atelier, but it was empty."

"Didn't you ask where she was or look for her?" was her impatient irritated reply.

"I did." Sophie retorted, still controlling any emotions that may cause them to lose control. "I talked to her neighbors… I tried to gather as much information as I can-"

"And what did you find out?" was her impatient remark, she was now on the verge of shouting.

"Marianne sold their house and her father's atelier-" was Sophie's careful but confident answer. 

"You're lying. Marianne won't sell the atelier. She told me she will take over her father's business," she stubbornly reasoned out, remembering ten years ago, when Marianne sat beside her outside and enjoyed the sight of the sea in Bretagne. "Why would she sell it when she loves arts and painting?" She refused to believe. "No, that's not true."

Sophie took a deep breath before speaking again. They both knew that one of them was about to explode. And this news was a very delicate matter that should be handled carefully. 

"Héloïse, try to calm down and listen to me…" 

Sophie requested as she began to bite her fingernails and resumed walking to and fro across the room.

"Héloïse…" 

Sophie called out. She cannot walk out of the truth. She managed to calm herself by taking a deep breath then faced her maid while still fidgeting. 

"According to the man that bought the house, Marianne had to sell the atelier because she was not able to manage it."

Sophie's words made her pause while she attempted to calm again her nerves. She tried to understand the logic and reason behind it, but it didn't justify why Marianne had to move out. 

"But why did she left?!" She finally burst out and felt tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

"Marianne's father died last Christmas."

The words struck like lightning and she became speechless. 

No wonder Marianne had taken such a drastic decision.

All along, she and Marianne were grieving separately.

"According to some neighbors who had lived there for a long time, Marianne needed money to pay all of her father's hospitalization, and since she cannot work full time, she had to sell their properties to meet ends," Sophie explained with a heavy heart.

Still not giving up, "Did you find out where she went or where she lives now?" She gazed at Sophie with so much longing, hoping upon hope for a positive reply.

"I've asked many people, and they told me only one thing," was Sophie's careful but firm reply. "Marianne is not coming back and they didn't know where she lives… nobody knew. I'm sorry Héloïse."

Just when she felt like there was hope in the future, Sophie's words were like a dagger that struck her heart. She felt her world crumbled down around her. Panic began in the pit of her stomach with a dull ache and quickly reached her heart. 

…Then came along a great pain.

Sophie tried to approach and console her, but she turned around and almost lost her balance, she ran off towards the door as she felt the sting of tears in her eyes.

***

She hadn't slept a wink. 

The whole night, she tossed to and fro on her bed, but sleep eluded her.

Heartbroken and dejected, she dried her tears with the back of her hand as she reached for the book under her pillow and opened it on page 28. 

She almost choked into tears as the self-portrait of Marianne greeted her sight. 

This image had always saved her from loneliness, until now. 

Having been worn out a bit from the years of gazing at it every night, her fingers ran carefully on the delicate page of her favorite book. 

She can't help but reminisce about the time it was painted and how ecstatic she was to pose… and be revered at the same time as her beautiful lover. That moment was one of the days that she felt so alive and happy, aside from giving birth to Federico. Meeting Marianne and discovering what really love was were the most memorable part of her life. 

But how can she continue to live now, when the only chance of reuniting with love and happiness had been denied to her for the last time? 

She had been crying since the beginning of summer and as the days became shorter and the nights became longer and colder, she cannot endure anymore the loneliness and emptiness. 

Reaching out for Marianne was the only option she had; the only reason she would want to live. 

When her son died, a part of her had died too. 

But she tried to be strong and held on. But the pain was too much to bear, and she thought of mending her broken heart through her long lost love. In Marianne, she still had a chance of finding a lost love. But after the hope of reuniting with Marianne faded, she felt this was the end for her. 

There was nowhere else to go… 

She was already tired.

That night, as she stared blankly at the ceiling, and as the light from the candle faded and her entire room was shrouded in darkness, she came to a decision.

***

She was already up when the sun had risen and sneaked out, and ran around the palazzo's garden despite the chilly morning air. She didn't care if it was unladylike to run; she was already used to all the criticisms and gossips about her being a foreigner, eccentric, and unconventional. 

The entire household was not even awake yet when she returned and used the side door, the one she secretly used whenever she wanted to sneak out of the house. 

"Where have you been?" 

Sophie's worried voice greeted her once she closed the door behind her.

"I need to run," she said, not elaborating further, then walked past her maid and went straight to the grand stairways and took two steps at a time, never caring about poise anymore. Sophie followed behind her and they headed towards her chamber.

"Héloïse…" Sophie chastised as soon as they were alone in the room. "Please calm down… I know you've been-" 

She turned around and met Sophie's worried look and didn't let her maid utter another word, "I want you to do something for me, and don't ever question me or tell anyone about this," she flashed her signature intense glare at her maid and when she knew that Sophie understood that she was dead serious, the girl nodded silently. "We're going back to France. I cannot stay here anymore. I'm leaving Filippo." the look of shock on Sophie's face didn't escape her sight.

"But he might-" Sophie tried to butt in but she shot her a deadly glare.

"Listen to me, I am just going to tell you this once and you need to obey me or we'll be both in trouble, do you understand?" was her serious angry remark. She was growing impatient and frustrated by the minute. "I want you to hire some men that we could trust and help us escape from here. I know that you had a suitor that liked you very much, maybe he could help us?"

"Henri?" Sophie's eyes glimmered with excitement after hearing the word 'suitor'.

"Yes, the boy from the French bakery," she nodded while pacing to and fro at the room. "If you are sure that he could be trusted, and if you really like him, ask him to elope with you, and tell him that I'll pay him whatever he needs in this journey, in exchange for his silence and assistance."

Sophie stared at her blankly with an open mouth. Her maid was giving her the 'Have you gone mad?!' look. But she did not release her eyes on her. "I'm serious Sophie. I don't want to spend another day with Filippo anymore. I'm done pretending."

Sophie seemed to notice the seriousness and frustration in her voice, and she saw her features softened and became anxious. 

"Are you sure about this?" 

The tone of Sophie's voice was firm but her expression was non-judgmental.

"I have never been so sure about anything in my life before." She expressed deeply. 

And that was all it took for Sophie to walk towards her and the next thing she knew, her maid embraced her tightly.

"We will do this together, I am not leaving you," was Sophie's heartfelt remark after releasing from the embrace.

Touched by Sophie's sincerity, she looked down and hid her face for a moment, afraid that her guilt would betray her. Her maid was truly the only person in this world, aside from Marianne that cared for her so much. She did not know how Sophie would become after this plan, and she hated to leave her in such a terrible mess, just like Marianne left her.

As soon as she recovered her composure, she faced Sophie full of confidence and forced a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Thank you for thinking of me. Although I know that you will always be a loyal friend to me and cared for me deeply, I like you to know that if you decide to marry and have a family one day, I won't hold you back. You have to find your happiness too, Sophie."

Sophie just shook her head from left to right, "No, I am not leaving you. You are my best friend and my mistress. I will stay with you no matter what happened. I will be your family and your servant, although you don't consider me as your servant. Because a mistress won't teach patiently her servant how to read and write both in French and Italian… and a servant can't embrace her mistress," they both laugh at that comment. 

"Alright, enough of that, I'm going to cry here," she tried to lighten up the scene even though she knew that she and Sophie will eventually separate one day. "Back to our plan… I want you to find today the men that will help us. Once you found them, tell them that we need two carriages for the journey."

"Why two?" was Sophie's confused remark. "Are we not going to travel together?"

"I don't want to raise suspicion," she reasoned out, careful of every word she said. "You and- what's the name of that boy again? The one you will ask to marry you?"

"It's Henri! And I'm not going to ask him to marry me!" Sophie retorted, shocked at the comment. 

But they eventually laugh together after she raised her eyebrows and smirked at her maid, as if not believing what Sophie just said. "We'll see about that… anyway, what's his family name, so, in case he didn't follow our plan or he deceived us, I'll know where to find him so that I can kill him myself."

"It's Delamarche… and don't worry, I'll be the one to kill him first if ever he's going to deceive us," was Sophie's confident proud remark.

Smirking, "That's good to hear. But seriously, I need the names of the men that you'll hire and their address, including the coachmen; can you do that for me?" She insisted. In this journey, Sophie's safety was her main concern. She will not send both of them in a tragedy, at least one of them should live happily ever after. And she will have to pay another man that will make sure Sophie would be in good hands after they separated.

"Alright, I will." Sophie nodded seriously. "When are you planning to leave? And where are we heading? Are we going back to Bretagne?"

"Err… No, we're heading to Paris. You need to find accommodation there first before we leave here so that it's easier for us to meet. We'll leave on Friday, but you will have to travel first in the morning." she explained clearly as if everything had been prepared beforehand. "I need to go to the theater, as usual, so that they won't suspect here that I have different plans. On the way to the theater, I will take Filippo's carriage, just like I used to do every Friday night. But when the concerto is over, tell the coachmen of the other carriage that you will hire to wait for me at the back of the theater. Tell him to wait for me in the dark alley, so that no one can see him." 

"How about your belongings?" Sophie asked worriedly. "Who would help you carry them?"

"You have to take everything with you, that's why I'm sending you ahead, together with Henri, if he agreed to our plan," she related, growing stressed at what she was about to do. "We'll start packing tonight. Just take some thick clothes that we need for the travel and some that we'll use for some days. We can buy new ones when we arrived in Paris. You have to pack all of my jewelry, heirlooms, and other valuable things that I owned that only belonged to my family."

"You mean all the things that were brought from Bretagne?" Sophie asked, to be sure. "Including your portrait that Marianne painted?"

The mere mention of it hurt her. "Yes, especially that one," she nodded. Suddenly there was silence between them as if the mention of Marianne's name had ruined their coming adventure.

"I'm sorry Héloïse…"

"No, don't be. It's alright. I get it. Perhaps Marianne and I are really not meant to meet again," was her sad and honest reply, and looked at the floor.

" Or perhaps, you and Marianne would meet someday now that we're going back to France," Sophie tried to comfort her. 

"Perhaps…" was her brief answer, not wanting to let Sophie down. 

The thought crossed her mind.

But where in the world would she find Marianne? 

Even if she had money, she didn't know where to start and the thought of Marianne leaving without a forwarding address or any message to her neighbors or the new owner of the house where Marianne used to live only indicated one thing: Marianne did not want to be found. 

When she commissioned a painter for the portrait of her and her son, she did something daring that meant to send a message to Marianne. She knew there would be a minuscule chance of Marianne seeing it. But she had hoped it will send Marianne a message that she had not given up on their love and that she constantly thought and dreamt of her. She continued to hope that Marianne would get in touch. But for the past ten years, she never received any message or sign that Marianne was still thinking of her… maybe she had already been forgotten and replaced in Marianne's heart. She cannot blame her… she was, after all, the one that got married. And even if she knew Marianne was not going to get married, with Marianne's line of work, there was a great chance that Marianne would meet another woman who was more beautiful and perhaps braver than her that would commissioned 'her painter' to paint a naked portrait.

She had to wake up from a dream and faced reality. After so many years, maybe Marianne had already forgotten about the love they share together, and it was only her who had been holding on to that love until the end. 

They say that people changed, perhaps Marianne had changed. 

But not her. 

She will always remember.

"Héloïse, are you alright?"

Sophie's question tore her out from contemplating, "I'm sorry, you were saying?"

"I said, are you alright? For a moment you seemed lost in your own thoughts," 

She hated that Sophie can read her clearly. "I'm just nervous, that's all. I want this to be trouble-free as possible. We cannot afford to make a mistake, because once someone had found out about our plan, they would send for my mother or Filippo's brother immediately."

"Don't worry. I will do my best to be discreet. We will go back to France together," was Sophie's reassuring remark. "And then we'll make sure that we can find a place to live, where neither your mother nor your husband can find us."

"Thanks, Sophie, you're truly are a good friend, you are like a sister to me, and I will never forget all the good things that you've done for me," she said sincerely and walked towards her maid and gave her a warm hug. "Sophie, I want you to promise me something…" she continued and released from the embrace, then held Sophie's gaze. She saw the confused and concerned look in her best friend's eyes and hoped that Sophie won't suspect a thing. "Please take good care of the portrait."

Sophie's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "I know how that painting meant to you, Héloïse. If you mean, that I shouldn't leave it out of my sight when I travel back to France, you can rely on that. I don't know why you have to make me promise when I know that it's one of the precious things that you cherished most, aside from your book."

She just looked at Sophie then put her hand on her heart and bowed, grateful for her maid's understanding and tolerance. But there was something in Sophie's look that conveyed curiosity or suspicion. She needed a distraction. 

"Before you pack the painting, can you please bring it to my chamber tonight?" she requested, and Sophie's expression lightened up immediately. "I missed her." That's all she needed to say.

***

She was not getting any decent sleep for the past three nights and she knew she won't get any either tonight.

When Sophie asked if they can already pack her portrait, she let out a heavy deep sigh, displayed her puppy sad-eyed face, and begged if she can spend another night looking at Marianne's painting. Sophie agreed at once and left her chamber quietly.

Calmly seated at her study table, she read one more time the notarized letter a lawyer gave to her early this morning, double-checking that she did not miss anything. 

Once she was satisfied with the content, she carefully folded the paper and inserted it in an envelope, together with another letter, and wrote Sophie's name on the envelope. Then she removed her signet ring and reached for the crimson candle. She dropped a splodge of scalding wax on to the envelope and pressed the molten wax with her signet ring. Her family's coat of arms the lion and three roses were engraved onto it and the interior of the hoop was engraved with an inscription with the black letter 'de bon coer'. 

The signet ring was a gift from her mother. It belonged to her father. It was also proof of her nobility. After her sister died, and she became the sole heir of all her father's properties, it was passed on to her. Usually, inheritance in France was recognized only in the male line, with a few exceptions of Champagne, Lorraine, and her birthplace, Bretagne. That was why her dowry and status attracted many noblemen seeking wives with the same status. 

She had hoped of giving the ring also to her son one day. But everything was ruined now. After wiping it with a cloth, she put back the ring on her right ring finger and left the envelope on the table to dry. 

Now that she had done one of the most important things she needed to do before their journey tomorrow, there was one last thing she wished to do.

She pulled her chair right across the fireplace. Then she grabbed the glass of red wine from Rennes that was on the study table, took a seat, and stared at the painting beside it. Every now and then, when her husband was not home, she would ask Sophie to fetch the painting from her husband's study room, and Sophie would put it on an easel right beside the fireplace.

She sighed as she swirled the wine in her glass before savoring a sip.

Whenever she was feeling nostalgic and melancholy possessed her, she always looked at her engagement portrait. Gazing at it pacified her, and made her feel close to Marianne. 

She could still recall how awkward it was the first time she posed for Marianne. But as the days passed and they began to be comfortable with each other and she started to trust Marianne, she also began to look forward to being painted. It didn't matter if she was posing for her engagement portrait for her future husband, what mattered most was the time she spent with this wonderful painter. It became a craving. She didn't realize how intimate it could be to be gazed upon for hours, and for many days until Marianne's eyes caressed her soul and touched her heart. 

Marianne's gaze was ravishing. 

There would be no other person that she would feel so connected to the way Marianne sees through her soul.

Her beloved truly gave her the greatest gift of all… 

…Love. 

It was the most wonderful feeling of all but also the most dangerous, once you get addicted to it.

She thought love can cure her 'wound' as she recalled a passage from one of her books…

“Love is born into every human being; it calls back the halves of our original nature together; it tries to make one out of two and heal the wound of human nature. Each of us, then, is a ‘matching half’ of a human whole…and each of us is always seeking the half that matches her.”

But fate seemed to disagree and not on her side. Perhaps she and Marianne were really not meant to be, just like ten years ago. Perhaps Marianne was not her other half.

And now that she could no longer feel the connection and her heart was already tired of being hurt, it's time that she made a decision.

She will go back to where it all started. 

If she would spend her last day, she would like to be in the place where she was born. She would also like to be close to the sea, to where she and Marianne kissed. She would like to feel again how to be free. 

Her eyes remained fixated on her portrait and reminisced how this painting brought them together. Through this painting, she discovered how to love and be loved unconditionally. Marianne would always be her beloved and the love of her life. Even if they cannot be together in this life, she would always be in her heart and her soul will always seek for Marianne, even Marianne wouldn't. 

As her gaze grew intense, so was her feeling. She emptied the glass of wine and walked towards the painting. 

"I will always remember."

She whispered her final goodbye.

***

She looked again around her, and when she knew that it was safe… "Is everything in order?" she asked once again, her heart racing like never before but she continued to wear this mask of calmness and strength, as she walked with Sophie along the corridor towards the side door. 

"I told you, I got everything under control," Sophie said in a hushed tone. "Henri is already finished loading all of our stuff and waiting for me in the carriage outside."

Staring at Sophie's brown orbs, "Did you bring a knife for protection? I won't be there to protect you, in case this Henri or someone else didn't agree with our plan." She felt nervous sending Sophie with all these valuables, and putting her maid's life at risk. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"Héloïse, I told you, Henri is a good boy, I trust him… and yes, I brought a knife, just in case," was Sophie's confident reply. "So, stop worrying, will you? Because I should be the one who should worry when you travel alone tonight. I still don't know why you don't want us to travel together-"

"Sophie, I already told you that I don't want to raise any suspicions among the servants here," she explained, putting her hands on her maid's shoulder and rubbed it consolingly. "And besides, I really want to go to the theater. I want to hear and enjoy Vivaldi's music for the last time in Milan. I don't know if I can ever experience these kinds of concertos again once we're back in France." Her reason was partly true, but it hurt that she had to lie more.

Sophie let out a soft sigh, and shrugged, "I don't know… I just feel odd, that's why I prefer that we travel together. But if you really must do this to avoid any suspicions, then I'll let you be. But you have to promise me that you will take also a knife with you. Although Henri knew the coachmen of your carriage, just like you said, we're not sure what will happen once we're on the road. And this is your first time traveling alone."

She smiled at Sophie's overprotectiveness too. "Don't worry I will take one of Filippo's hunting knives with me." She received a contented smile from her maid, but a hint of worry sat on Sophie's brow.

"I already instructed your coachmen where to wait for you and I also gave them the address of our accommodation in Paris," was Sophie's serious remark. "I've packed a small bag for you, with some warm clothes, enough food, and drink for the entire journey, so, that you'll feel comfortable. It's already in the carriage."

"Thank you, Sophie, I really appreciate everything that you're doing," was her earnest reply. As they approach the door, she put a hand on Sophie's shoulder and caused her maid to turn around and face her. "Sophie, I almost forgot, here," she casually handed an envelope with Sophie's name on it."

"What's this?" Sophie eyed the letter curiously, thinking that they may have forgotten something important.

"It's just a list for you… on what to do when you arrive in Paris," she stated, avoiding Sophie's suspecting eyes. "I don't want to forget anything when we arrive there. Will you wait for me, before opening it?"

"Umm, sure," Sophie replied and then shrugged, and opened the door. "I guess I'll see you in Paris."

She suddenly panicked, as she found themselves standing by the opened door. 

This would be the last time she would see Sophie, her ever faithful and loyal maid and only true friend. 

She felt her heart hammering out of her chest, as she reached out and put her arms around Sophie tightly. 

Sophie returned the gesture, thinking it was just a 'goodbye and have a safe trip' hug, just like they always do. 

She cannot help but be emotional at the moment. 

Sophie had been her constant companion since she came out of the abbey and had witnessed every heartache that she had been through in the last ten years, and the one who knew all her secrets, and the only person she trusted most. Above all, Sophie loved and accepted her for what she was. And now, she was consumed with guilt and heartache for leaving Sophie like a coward. She closed her eyes and silently asked for forgiveness.

When she felt that she had conveyed enough how grateful and sorry she was, and before her tears could fall, she released Sophie from the embrace and carefully pushed the girl outside.

"Go now… before someone sees us," she commanded, her voice shifting into a mistress mode, although she rarely used it to Sophie. 

Sophie hesitantly walked towards the garden, but turned around after a few steps, "Take care tonight, and I'll see you in a few days…" Sophie smiled. "Everything is going to be alright, Héloïse. We're going home." 

And with that, Sophie bade her goodbye and disappeared in her sight.

That was the last time she saw Sophie. 

"We're going home," she mumbled under her breath while she stared blankly at nothing in particular. With a heavy heart, she walked back inside and let her tears fall. 

*** 

It was almost half a day since Sophie left, and now she found herself walking along the corridor of the palazzo on her way out to the theater. But before she left her husband's house, she stopped and looked at one of the paintings that hang on the walls of the corridor. 

She took a deep breath as she regarded the painting of herself with Federico. She gazed at the image of her son one last time and touched lightly his face as if trying to memorize his every feature. 

It's been months and she was still mourning and the pain of losing him was just unbearable. She could no longer take it. 

Everything she loved had abandoned her… her father, her sister, Federico, and then Marianne. 

Life was just meaningless.

"Forgive me for leaving your father," was all she could utter as her tears threatened to fall. "You're the only reason that I've stayed… I love you so much." And with that, she turned around and headed towards the door, never looking back.

A few minutes later, she entered the theater absentmindedly. She was not quite sure how she got there or how long she had been there, her mind was gone. Seeing the flow of the people going upstairs, she followed them then made her way among the crowd of spectators towards her usual place in the box. Her mind felt numb as she took her seat. She didn’t pay any attention to her surroundings and just focused her sight on the stage. She was about to listen to Marianne's favorite piece, and she felt overwhelmed. The only reason she went to the theater tonight was to experience this for the last time this powerful composition. By doing this, she would feel somewhat close to Marianne even if her beloved were nowhere to be found. This was her way too, of saying goodbye to Milan and to Marianne… 

As the theater fell into silence and the light became dimmer, there was only one thing that's on her mind… 

Marianne.

Despite the cheerful and joyful rhythm of the Four Season's Spring, she couldn't enjoy the up-tempo pacing and higher notes that gave the feeling of energy. She couldn't bring herself to be happy, for there was nothing joyful about this situation, and instead remained detached from the music.

As the orchestra shifted from Spring's lively rhythm to Summer's moody cadence, she can't help fidgeting on her seat. The first movement, Allegro, was quite slow and moody. It's languishing. Just like the birds chilling out from the heat. But the vibe quickly turns dark, as the storm sets in. Then the orchestra hit the second movement, Adagio, it's short and snappy. Fear was lurking, and then the melody was abruptly interrupted by rumbling thunder. 

But when the violent beat of the final movement began, she was automatically hypnotized and put under a spell. Presto was full of verve and intensity, it's climatic and full of tension and energy.

The anticipated storm had arrived, and she was waiting for it to sweep her off her feet. 

Her chest heaved with the rise and fall of the notes. 

The Presto had always captivated her, just like Marianne captivated her heart. She can't help but be emotionally captured by this music, at the same time her past suddenly flashed through her head.

It took her mind first back to childhood memories: She and her sister were playing outside by the cliff, and her father and mother were there too. They have always picnic outside of the chateau overlooking the sea of Bretagne when they were young. Then it shifted on the times she was happy inside the abbey and enjoying her freedom, reading books and singing at the mass. Suddenly, the scene jumped to the time she gave birth to Federico and she saw his tiny hands, small feet, and beautiful face for the first time, it was one of the happiest days of her life. Lastly, Marianne's face flashed in her mind… She momentarily closed her eyes, wishing it to last, savoring the memory of her beautiful love. It felt so vivid and real, as she sprawled on the bed and faced Marianne while her beloved painted an image of her. The scene continued and she opened her eyes with her and Marianne facing each other while on the bed. They were confessing to each other when they found out they were attracted to one another and promised to remember everything. But then, the image of Marianne running down the stairs and leaving the chateau shook her from the 'happy scenes of her life'. Her tears began to fall as the image of Marianne pausing by the door and turning around to bid her farewell, before disappearing in her sight broke her heart again. Afterwards, the sight of Sophie saying goodbye and Federico kissing her on the cheek and waving goodbye at her flashed rapidly and clearly through her mind and made her more anxious and her heartfelt like exploding. But then she saw Sophie's smiling face telling her that they were going home. So, she smiled a bit. 

She was finally going home… but then reality hit her.

Nobody was home. 

She took one last deep breath as the music abruptly stopped and reality came around. 

She was still alone. 

As the orchestra performed the rest of the composition, she began also to wear off and recalled the actual plan.

She will remain seated and finished the concerto, and then she will go to the back exit and take the carriage that will take her to Bretagne. Once she was home, she will pursue her plan. She will stay a day at the chateau, her childhood home, and also the home of the many memories of her life. She will reminisce about all of the happy memories that it brought her, and by sunset, she will go to the place where Marianne and she kissed for the first time and will stay there until the tides take her away. 

Until then, she had to remain calm and seated until the orchestra was finished.

The rest of the concerto went by in a blur. 

She only realized that it was finished when people began to rise from the seats and leave. 

She tried to gather her thoughts and quickly leave the balcony, afraid that some of Filippo's friends would recognize and stopped her for a chat, just like they always do after the Friday concertos.

She walked among the crowds and fixed her stare on the floor to avoid eye contact. Discretion was important as she leaves the theater. She was almost on the main exit and she could already see the door, but then she made a swift turn to the side exit, where people who worked on the theater used. She discovered this when she got lost one time, and was alone and trying to avoid some of Filippo's acquaintances. So every time she goes alone on Friday night to the theater, this was her chosen exit. Once she got out, she followed the path leading to the back instead of the front, where the carriages of the guests await. She was thankful that there was a full moon and the night was clear. She made her way along with the trees and tall bushes, as her eyes already sighted the carriage at the end of the garden. Just a few more steps and she would already be on her way to her freedom and everlasting peace. 

But then a hand snatched her out from walking further.

"Merde!" A litany of curses in her mother tongue came out of her mouth as she lost her balance and stumbled down the ground. She irritatingly got on her feet and when she finally stood, she saw a mysterious figure came out from the dark. And she found herself face to face with an old grey-haired woman, smaller than her by around six inches, she guessed.

"What do you want?" she asked annoyed, her arrogance resurfaced as she felt threatened. Then her eyes slowly take in the image of the woman. It was a gypsy fortune-teller. The woman was cunning and dark. She suddenly had the urge to run and get away from there. But she still remembered to behave like a lady. So, she opened her purse and took out a silver coin and handed it to the old woman, and prayed that the woman will leave her alone. But she was surprised when the woman ignored it.

"Why are you crying and running?" the mysterious old woman asked, not tearing her eyes off her.

Her face crumpled as she thought about what the old woman said. "I am not."

"Are you crying because you asked Orpheus to turn around?"

Her eyes locked glare with the old woman. Suddenly a terrible feeling of foreboding overcame her and she instinctively backed out. "What are you talking about?" she pretended not to be affected but felt her heart hammering.

"My child, I can sense your pain and loss," the gypsy replied and stepped closer. "I know you've been seeking for your half."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she continued to deny, growing irritated about the truth to it. Sophie had told her about this group of people that practiced fortune telling and sorcery. But she did not believe any of it. Her eyes followed the woman's hand reached something from her back; she thought it was a dagger or a weapon. But she was relieved when the woman showed her palm and brought it towards her. "What's that?" her eyebrows furrowed as she stared at the old wrought iron like the size of a plum.

"It's a cast-iron heart lock," the woman replied, staring at her in wonder. "I got this a long time ago, from a merchant that traveled the ancient trade routes from the Far East. He paid me with this, in exchange for something he desired dearly."

"I have no use for that," she abruptly said and was about to go on her way to the waiting carriage, but she felt again this firm hand on her arm stopping her. "I have no time for this, let go of my arm before-" she was not even finished talking when the old woman carefully put the thing on her hand and then stared at her. Suddenly, she found herself staring back at the gypsy's eyes, and felt trapped, that she had no choice but to give her full attention to the old woman.

"When you reached your destination, and before you sleep, take it with you and hold it on your heart," the gypsy explained calmly. "Then recite the words, 'come back to me', thrice before going to sleep. And when you wake up, Orpheus will be there to take you back." 

She was dumbfounded and at the same time furious. Does this woman know her secret? She wanted to stop whatever hoax or sorcery this gypsy was telling, but at the same time, she found herself being dragged into the offer. So she stopped resisting and just went with the flow. Although she wondered how this old woman knew about Orpheus, does it mean that the old woman knew about her and Marianne? 

"I know what you're thinking… I just want to help," the woman returned.

And she remained speechless. But the sincerity in the old woman's voice was genuine. "You know that I don't believe in anything that you say. So, why don't you just go elsewhere and find another victim."

The gypsy flashed a wicked smirk as if challenging her words. "I am not lying, and besides what have you got to lose? You are, after all, going away. Why not try the spell, and if it worked, you will be reunited with your beloved. And if it's not, you can go on with your old plan."

She felt provoked but at the same time, she was curious how this old woman knew something about her personal life. Was this really fortune-telling or witchcraft? Whatever it was, the gypsy was right, she had nothing to lose if she would try it, and besides, she was also curious about this so-called spell, and the thing that was given to her. Since she was ready to give up her life, she might as well try something forbidden by the Church!

"Alright, I will perform the spell, and if it didn't work, I'm going to come back here, and report you to the authorities for a hoax," was her challenging reply.

"Very well, I will be waiting for you," the gypsy retaliated and then stared at her again. "But beware… if the spell worked out, you have to pay the price."

"And what is it?" she was about to reach for her pouch again so that she could pay her with a piece of jewelry or something valuable since her money was rejected earlier.

"You will lose the memory of your love…"

She almost snapped at the comment and was already losing her patience. She didn't know why she was still wasting her time talking nonsense with this gypsy. But on the other hand, she was kind of desperate to be with Marianne and still hoped, until the last minute for a miracle, that she would do anything at this moment to be with Marianne, even in a crazy kind of witchery way. 

"You told me that if I want to be reunited with my love, all I have to do is to take this thing with me and recite some damn spell. How could we be reunited when I don't remember anything about our love?"

"If Orpheus is truly your other half, then he will fall in love with you again and again, no matter when no matter where and no matter what. And when that time comes, he will break the spell, and you will gain back the memory of your love."

"And how will he break it?" She demanded, growing frustrated.

"With a kiss."


	3. Marianne Guiard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marianne was haunted by strange dreams and its almost taking over her life.

**Marianne**

The boat rocked violently back and forth threatening to tip them out. The water was getting rougher as the wind grew stronger. All of a sudden, a wave washed over the side and threw the wooden crate she held overboard. She rose from her seat and caught the attention of the skipper, he stopped paddling and the rest of the five-man crew followed and they all stared at the floating crate. 

None of the men offered any sign of help. So, she removed her coat, stepped over the gunwale, flashed a warning look at the skipper, and without hesitation, she jumped into the water to save the crate.

Her brows drew together as she sat back on the boat covered with her coat while the boatmen resumed paddling. Swallowing salt water made her nauseous. She was freezing wet and her dress was three times heavier. Luckily, they were nearing the island. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, again and again, to forget the cold. The violent back and forth of the waves continued, nonetheless, there's something in the air that made her calm. It was invigorating, like an authentic tonic. Her eyes remained shut and she let the fresh sea air caressed her aching body and restless mind. 

But then, the sound of the strong waves vanished abruptly. When she opened her eyes, she was no longer at sea but inside a vast chamber. A flickering flame jolted her out of contemplation. She was holding a candle and staring at a burning portrait. She was shocked for a moment, then it hit her, as she realized how near the candle was to the painting, she burned the portrait! Why did she burn it? And why does it have no face? The next thing she knew, the flame from the fireplace consumed the painting. Guilt and fear overcame her after realizing she destroyed a painting. 

Panicking, she shut her eyes again and forcefully recalled what the portrait looked like. Perhaps she could imitate the painting to replace the damaged one… But whose portrait it was? 

When she opened her eyes, she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. 

Suddenly, she found herself standing at the top of the stairs of old chateaux and she was eyeing at a figure of someone wearing a dark blue cloak standing at the bottom of the stairs, its back facing her. Curious, she descended the stairs, but when she was already halfway through… The figure strode towards the door and then out of the chateaux. Her instinct told her to follow. As she came out and walked further, she heard the strong waves and smelled the fresh coastal sea air around her. She had no time to figure out where she was, when her eyes caught sight of the cloaked figure walked faster, causing its hood to fall back and reveal a young woman with blonde hair under the dark blue cloak. She continued to follow her and attempted to catch a glimpse of her face but it was in vain. The next thing she knew, the young woman broke into a run. Seeing the edge of the cliff, heart-pounding and terrified, she ran after her. But as it came closer to the end, the young woman stopped abruptly at the very edge of the cliff. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore in the background became pronounced, as she found herself too stopping near the edge of the cliff. Not tearing her eyes on this lass, she waited with bated breath for her to turn around, so she can finally see who this person was. 

As the young woman turned around…

"Marianne, wake up!"

She forced her eyes open. Her eyebrows contorted as she stared at the face in front of her… 

The realization came slow and late… then clearer. 

"Zoé? What are you-?" was her confused remark as she stared at her best friend's worried face. "Am I …?"

The curly red hair sympathetically nodded, "You're dreaming again… are you alright?" 

She sat on the bed, ran her fingers over her shoulder-length hair, and nodded, her thoughts were chaotic but the dream was vivid. It felt so real that she was even sweating. "Umm… yeah… it's just…" she touched her forehead and looked down.

"Were you in a boat again… at the sea? …Because you're trembling."

She nodded. It was the same dream or nightmare again. 

The first night the dream occurred, it felt so real. Zoé heard and saw her struggling and trembling.

"Marianne, are you sure you're okay?" Zoé asked voice full of concern. "You've been having the same dreams for so long, maybe you should seek help."

She darted her eyes on her best friend's worried ones, "Everyone has weird dreams, and I don't need help. I'm not crazy."

"I'm not saying that you're crazy," Zoé replied apologetically and sat on the side of the bed across her. "But you've been obsessed also with this faceless woman in your dream. You never paint anything other than that."

"I'm not," was her quick retort and avoided her best friend's eyes. 

"Marianne, you know that I love you and I don't hide anything from you," Zoé explained, and reached out for her hands and held them. "I can see that you're troubled… tell me if there's something I can do." 

She managed to look at Zoé's way and sighed with relief when she noticed her best friend's concerned look. Did she really need help? Since she started having the same bizarre dreams, she can't seem to get it out of her mind. There was this constant yearning of finding out who this woman was in her dreams. She never felt so consumed and captivated by anyone or anything until now.

"I don't care how many faceless portraits of a woman you'll paint," Zoé started in a calm tone, sensing perhaps the changed in her mood. "But locking yourself inside for the past weeks isn't good. It's madness. You need to go out. Enjoy the summer. Go see people."

"I have to take advantage of the time," she retaliated, hoping to give her best friend a valid reason for this 'madness'. "When school begins, I won't have time anymore to do what I want."

"But you're wasting your time… We've been planning and saving for this trip for years…" Zoé insisted and frowned. Then came a frustrated sigh. "You're supposed to be sitting with me on sunbeds, drinking the best mango juice in the world while watching the most beautiful sunset unfold over the ocean. But you canceled all of that for what... a faceless woman?! 

She was about to open her mouth and explain herself again, why she had to call off their yearly travel, but the frustration in Zoé's face cannot be denied. 

For the past four years of living together, they had done things together, support each other, and helped each other through good and bad times. They were inseparable and open with each other. But lately, she found herself wanting to be alone and to paint endlessly. It all started when she began dreaming of being on an isolated island and chasing a faceless young woman. She thought that it would just be a one-time dream or two, or three. But then it turned out to recurring dreams, and the more she tried to forget it, the more she dreamt of it. And whenever she tried to paint the face of the young woman on canvas, it always resulted in nothing. But she wouldn't give up… she felt challenged. She will finish this portrait whatever it takes.

"I'm not wasting my time… I'm painting. You know that I love it, and when I have this vision in mind, I won't stop until I'm finished painting it… only this time, I – " 

"No, don't tell me. I know you need more time and want to be alone whenever you paint. And I understand and respect that. But when you're focused on just one subject… and you painted over a dozen of it, faceless,… and you kept having these weird dreams almost every night about this faceless woman… that, I can't understand." Zoé chastised rose from the bed and stood in the middle of the room. 

She did not understand it either. All of a sudden, she found herself dreaming of the same place, the same situation, and the same young woman.

"I will leave you alone so that you can find your muse and inspiration to finish all those paintings, and hopefully when I come back, you already managed to put a face on those portraits, and forget about it… and I don't have to compete anymore with this faceless woman for your attention. Then you will go back to your normal life, and we will go out and do the stuff we usually do together. " 

She did not argue anymore, knowing that her best friend was right all along. And it's true, she really wanted to be alone and concentrate fully on finishing all those faceless portraits. Maybe in solitude, she would find the inspiration and recall the face of the young woman in her dreams, since she honestly did not know what she would do if she never finished any of those portraits. 

***

Panic swelled within her. 

Her heart pounded against her chest as she ran towards the grassy steep cliff and fumbled her way down the rocky rough coastline. There, among the large rocks along the shore, she found her, dressed in an emerald green gown, standing and looking across the angry sea. She could sense her mood… It resembled the violent waves crashing against the huge rocks. No matter how exhausted she was, she ran as fast as her tired legs can to reach her. She was crying and evidently distressed and breathed painfully. She did not know why, but she just had to reach her. As the distance between them became shorter, her heart beat faster and stronger. She was almost there. She could almost discern her face. Just a few more… gradually, the figure faded into the distance, taking her heart with it.

"No, no, no, nooo!"

"Marianne, calm down!"

Eyes still closed, she struggled to salvage the image that had been haunting her. She cannot lose her now, she was almost there… she could almost see her face! Just a glimpse of it, and she can imprint it in her thoughts and finally paint her. 

But as always, it eluded her.

"No!" She frustratingly held on to her dream, but she was forcefully woken up when she felt a hand carefully tapped her cheek and heard…

"Marianne, sweetie. Come on. Wake up."

She suddenly froze, as a familiar voice roused her to consciousness, and finally she let go and opened her eyes.

"Maman?" Was her confused remark, as soon as she recognized the worried face of her mother. "What are you doing here?" she asked, and she became more disoriented when her eyes caught the unfamiliar sight around her. "Where am I? And what are we doing here?" growing frustrated and impatient by the lack of reply, she abruptly rose from the bed, but she was met by a piercing pain on her right arm, and involuntarily laid back on the bed. When she looked at the spot where the pain came from, she realized that a thin plastic tube was fixed to her arm with adhesives and attached to a drip. Overwhelmed, she flashed a worried look at her mother and was about to ask again what was going on, but suddenly she felt light-headed as if she had no energy at all.

"Marianne, please calm down," 

Her mother warned, rose from the chair beside the bed and put a hand on her hair, and started caressing it. The familiar soothing touch of her mother's hand made her calm instantly, just like when she was a child.

"Sweetie, you were unconscious when I found you in your room."

What?

She was just painting in her flat; there was nothing harmful about it. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she tried to recall the moments.

"Zoé was trying to get in touch with you for days, but you weren't answering."

That she remembered. 

But she ignored it and for the past days and nights, she was consumed with this flaming desire to finish the portraits, to put a face into each of it. She had painted day after day; awake with the first light of the morning, and working until the last light of dusk. She worked on and on and painted another, and then another portrait, never stopping. She wanted to bring this portrait to completion… to perfection. She wouldn't stop until she intimately knew it and can finally put a face on it until her hand bleeds. 

Her rumination was interrupted, when she felt her mother's hand cupped her face and their eyes met. "Zoé called me and was very worried about you, and asked me to check on you." She looked at her mother guiltily as those worried eyes gazed at her. "Marianne… the doctors said you almost died due to dehydration. If Zoé hadn't begged me to go to your flat and check on you, you would have been dead," was her mother's anxious comment. "Sweetie, what's going on? It seemed like, you were possessed… When I found you, you were surrounded by these…"

Seeing that her mother was growing agitated, she covered her mother's hand that cupped her cheek with her own one and kissed it. She attempted to comfort and distract her. 

"Maman, stop worrying, I'm still alive," was her confident remark, and received a contented smile from her mother. "And I'm sorry for making you worried; I didn't realize that will happen. All I want was to finish this painting and then go on with my life…"

"I know. And since you're young, I've seen how you work and how focussed and sincere you are whenever you paint. But there's one thing that baffled me… your paintings… it's…"

Seeing her mother was growing upset, she contemplated how she would tell her mother about this 'madness'. She didn't want her to worry. Ever since she was a child, she was very close to her mother and always told her almost everything in her life. Her mother was always there for her and understood and supports everything she did. 

Without having second thoughts, she looked at her mother sincerely and coaxed her to take a seat. 

"I've been having these dreams," she started and paused, recalling all those frustrating and restless nights. It started just the boat ride and jumping into the cold sea to retrieve a crate. But then the dreams became longer and continued to haunt her every night. There were parts that were vivid, but there were also some blurred ones. 

She was jolt out from her rumination when she felt her mother's hand squeezed her left hand gently, and gave her an encouraging nod. "I was in a boat, on my way to an isolated island. Then there's a portrait of a woman, just like the ones you've seen in my room. It's faceless. And then there's this woman. I'm always chasing her, I don't know why. I can't see her face and whenever I have a chance, it just disappeared and I always wake up frustrated…"

"Is it the same woman?"

She glanced at her mother, and nodded, "I think so. Because she's wearing the same green gown in the portrait whenever I'm chasing her."

"These dreams… when did it start?" her mother asked curiously, leaning closer to her.

She hesitated for a moment but received the 'don't you dare lie to me' look from her mother.

"I've been having them for months now and I can't seem to stop dreaming about it," was her honest and sincere reply. "I felt that I've really been in that place and I knew this young woman very well, but at the same time, I don't know why I have a strong connection and desire to paint her when I can't even see her face?" For a moment, she tried questioning herself. What was her motive? Who was this young woman? What was her connection to her? Why she was suddenly consumed painting her portrait? And why was she having the same dreams? It didn't make any sense. And it almost took her life! She realized that she was already growing upset when a drop of tear escaped from the corner of her eye, and she brushed it away. "Why am I always chasing her? And why can't I see her face?!" Frustration finally consumed her. The next thing she felt was her mother's arms around her, and she let out the tears flow freely as she held tight into her mother's protective arms.

"Shhh… everything's going to be alright, sweetie. We'll talk to the doctors and they will help you forget the nightmares."

"Hello… is everything alright?"

They both released from the embrace and their eyes darted on the door. They both smiled when they recognized the intruder.

Surprised, she stared at him for a while and studied his attire, a black collared shirt, and black pants. It suited him. It was almost two years since she last saw her brother. Ever since they were young, Ethan was always the most behaved between them. And she would always plague him whenever he was playing the piano. That's why she was not surprised when he decided to enter the seminary. Despite being one year older than him, people had always mistaken them for being twins. If she cut her hair short and have a beard, they cannot tell the difference. 

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be inside?" She asked as he approached her bed and gave her a hug and a kiss on both cheeks.

"I told them it's emergency and that you're in a hospital," Ethan replied and placed a small brown paper bag on her lap. He walked on the other side of the bed and smiled wide as he was greeted by his mother with open arms. "Maman, I missed you," he said, kissing both his mother's cheeks, before embracing her and then handed a folder to her mother. 

"I missed you too, baby. And thanks…" 

"Sorry, it took me long to find that," Ethan said, referring to the folder that was on their mother's hand. "I think we should begin to clean up your attic and threw some of our toys and child stuff."

"No, we're not throwing anything," his mother warned him. 

Before her mother and brother could engage in banter, "What's going on?" she asked, looking at her mother and then to her brother.

"Maman asked me to stopped by at home, and fetch something before coming here," Ethan explained, but then pointed on her lap. "Aren't you gonna open it?"

She looked back at the forgotten brown paper bag on her lap and studied it. Her eyes grew wide when she recognized the image of the green siren on it. "You still remembered!" She exclaimed after opening it and found a blueberry muffin. "Thank you Ethan!"

Ethan displayed a satisfied smile and sat at the bottom of the bed. "I still don't understand why you preferred that American crap when the whole world is going crazy for French pastries and baked goods."

"Hey, it's not crap!" She retorted and was about to take a bite, but was distracted when her mother placed a frayed brittle folded paper on her lap. She put the muffin aside, glanced at her mother's direction before she carefully picked the paper. When she opened it, it almost took her breath away and she was left speechless, as she stared at the drawing like she had seen a ghost.

"You were five years old when you drew it…" 

Her mother's voice brought her back from her temporary shock, and she shook her head slightly.

"When you showed that to me… I asked you… why you erased the face, and you said the lady didn't like your drawing, and that you will draw her face again when you see her in your sleep. But then it never happened, and you never showed any drawing again of the lady."

By this time, her mother was already in tears when she gazed in her direction. She never remembered any of it and had never seen the drawing until now. 

"Marianne, that's the first time you drew that portrait of a faceless woman," was her mother's anxious remark. "And those dreams of yours?… it's not the first time either."

She stared carefully at this childish drawing of a half-length woman colored in green crayon, and she discovered the shocking resemblance of it to the other portraits that she painted. 

All along, this portrait of a faceless woman had been haunting her ever since.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Help, please...If there are French readers. Please correct me if I'm wrong, is Maman the equivalent of both Mommy and Mom in English? If you're already a teenager or an adult, would you still call your mother Maman or M'man? thanks!


	4. 'Turn Around'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten years later, Marianne was now a freelance photographer and was satisfied with her career. She abandoned arts for the sake of her health and never paint again since she almost had a mental breakdown painting the faceless portrait of a woman. Zoé was a wedding planner and owned her company. Marianne worked as a wedding photographer with Zoé when she didn't have any other assignments from other companies

Marianne

Her heart raced, her ears roared as blood pumped through her veins, while she rushed downstairs. 

She felt breaking apart.

She was eager to leave the place… 

Almost there… she thought. She was almost out of breath when she reached the bottom of the stairs. 

Frantically, she opened the door… and just as she was about to step towards the light…

"Turn Around." 

That voice. 

It sounded familiar and very close to her heart.

Even in her most distressing condition, she cannot resist it. 

She paused by the door and turned around.

Her heart skipped a beat as the image flashed in front of her.

There, at the top of the stairs, she caught a glimpse of a familiar figure in a white dress. Her heart hammered wildly against her chest. But as her gaze focused on the face, it faded in the darkness before it retained in her mind… it eluded her again.

She was overcome with pain and trepidation.

A buzzing sound invaded her head and yanked her out from the depths of her sleep. She inhaled a quick breath and slowly opened her eyes. 

Still panting and trembling, she forced her eyes open and looked around. When her brain finally recognized the familiar surroundings, she sighed in relief. She had not even recovered yet from disorientation, when…

What the – ?

Still half-awake, she grimaced as her ears detected the high pitched buzzing noise increased. She rolled over to her left side and reached for her phone on the bedside table and turned off the alarm. The early morning light was already seeping through the blinds… she should be up by now if she wanted to have a freshly brewed coffee before leaving. But she chose to ignore the time and remained in bed while she attempted to salvage the fragments of her dream. 

Is it…? 

She closed her eyes and recalled where it took place and who the woman was.

It's the same stairs… and…

Once she recognized it, her heart rate increased. That place was well registered in her mind. 

How can it be?

It came back. 

The dreams… the dreams that invaded her childhood and adolescent memories…

Why was it haunting her again? 

She thought she got rid of it already… she thought she was already cured.

Ten years passed since she almost died and lost herself in this maddening obsession of finding out who this woman was. She was on the brink of being consumed by this mysterious woman and the enigma behind the faceless portrait. She was lucky that her love ones intervened and saved her from drowning in this madness. It was a long painful agonizing healing process for both her and the people that loved her, but they all stayed by her side and helped her until she finally recovered and got back on her own feet again. She even sacrificed and gave up her passion in exchange for her health, her family's peace of mind, and swore to her mother never to put her family again in that horrible situation. 

The dreams became less frequent as time went by. With the help of her family, best friend, and psychiatrist, she managed to forget. She thought it will never occur again since she never had any dreams or thought of it for the past years. She never even set afoot to any museums or galleries for the past ten years, nor had she touched any paintbrush again, just to make sure that it will not haunt her again. She was already 'cured' and successfully suppressed her passion for art to live normally.

So, why did it come back again? 

After all these years, why did this dream visited her again in her sleep? 

And why today? …Of all days. Why on her 30th birthday? 

No, this isn't happening…

She refused to acknowledge it. She refused to go back there, where she had no control of herself and was possessed by her passion. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. 

You're fine. You're alright. You're normal. You're… 

Suddenly a scene from her dream flashed through her mind and her brows furrowed. 

She gripped her in a tight embrace. And then her lips trailed along the slopes of her neck and shoulder, and then took in a deep breath, inhaling her scent, and the warmth and sweetness of her skin, burning her into her memory, into her heart, into her soul.

The overwhelming emotions snatched her out of her thoughts. She was panting and her head felt like exploding when she opened her eyes. 

Why was she kissing a woman? 

And not just any other woman, it's the faceless woman that she was obsessed with?

Something's wrong. 

Something's happening to her and she didn't know what or why, but she was afraid she will lose control again. It was like an addiction. Once she started dreaming of her, she won't be able to stop until she had put a face on the canvass and perfected the portrait. And now her mind was playing a new trick on her… why was she kissing her? She never kissed a woman like that before and will probably never do it. 

It's been two years since she had her last appointment.

All of a sudden she began to doubt her recovery.

Worried and disoriented that this dream occurred again, and partly shocked that she kissed a woman in her dream, she reached for her phone. Her fingers scrolled down the contact list and when she finally found her therapist's name, she tapped on it.

She began to get restless while she waited impatiently for the phone to ring, and thought of all the possibilities to keep her loved ones from worrying about her again. 

It ringed, but on the third one, it went to voicemail. 

Just as she was about to leave a message…

What the?

The annoying sound of the doorbell continued to ring and distracted her from worrying. 

She ended the call and looked at the time… 

06.33… Who could this be?

She rose from her bed, put on her grey hoodie over her pajama, and run towards the door.

Arriving at the door, she tiptoed to take a peek at who could be disturbing her at this early hour. 

She was surprised and confused when she discovered who it was and hurriedly unlocked the door.

"Nico? 

Standing taller in front of her and wearing an elegantly expensive tailored suit, her boyfriend never ceased to charm her with his blonde slicked back hair, strong clean-shaven jaw, and a killer smile. 

She was greeted right away with a kiss on the lips and a hug, while she still tried to process what was happening. 

"Happy birthday!" He exclaimed after releasing her from his arms and stood there gazing at her for a moment. 

Was this some kind of birthday surprise? She was caught off guard and stared at him, she can't think of something good to say to him for a moment. Because first, she just had this mysterious dream again, second, she was interrupted while trying to get in touch with her shrink, and third, she's grumpy because she hadn't had her coffee yet.

What the hell is he up to?

He definitely caught her in a bad situation, and she was not in the mood to talk to him about what was bothering her now. Her boyfriend was aware of what happened to her while she was in college, but she chose to skip the part where she almost died and was temporarily madly obsessed with a faceless woman in her dream. She just mentioned that she had to undergo years of therapy because of depression.

She was the first one to break their gaze, as she recalled where he was supposed to be. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the airport now?"

"I am on my way… but I have to see you one more time," Nico explained, his smile disappeared and hopelessly stared at her again. "I've never been away from you this far and this long, Marianne. I don't know if I could make it."

She gave him a blank stare. 

Sometimes, she was confused when men were so open with their feelings and the one who's clingy. She knew that she should be thankful for having a sweet, loving, and caring boyfriend, but sometimes she felt it's too much and suffocating. 

"It's just a month, the next thing you know, you're already flying back to Paris" she retorted, trying to comfort him but he became more broody. She replied with a smile and teased him, "Don't be overdramatic… you've always been on a business trip. What are you worrying about?"

"You."

"Me?" Totally bewildered, she stared at him. Was he joking? "What about me? You know that I love you and you're the only man in my life. And you've been away so many times, but I still remain faithful to you."

"I didn't mean like that," he corrected and took a deep sigh. For someone who was in his late 30's and a successful businessman, he was acting like a lovesick teenager. 

"Then what is it?"

But instead of replying, he took out something from the side pocket of his blazer and went down on his knees.

A startled gasp escaped her, and she had to cover her mouth quickly with her hand, to hide her emotions. Her eyes opened wide as she looked down at him. She was totally dumbfounded and remained frozen on her feet when she saw the glittering diamond ring in between his fingers.

"Marianne, Tokyo is miles away from here, and with my job and the time difference, I don't know how I am going to keep in touch with you as often as we like –"

"What are you talking about?" She chimed in but was silenced by his finger. And then she realized that she might have interrupted a proposal, so she remained still.

"What I mean is, I'll be far away for so long, and I know that it won't be the same thing, compared to my other trips here in Europe, where I could just take a flight back to Paris after a day or two," Nico resumed his statement, his voice breaking. "I would be restless and worried because of the distance."

"I told you, you have nothing to worry about," she tried to reassure him, even if her mind and heart were disoriented right now.

He smiled guiltily, then cleared his throat and held her free hand before resuming with his proposal, "I love you, Marianne… and I'm going to miss you so much. I don't know what will be the outcome of this business trip… if it will be a success or a failure. The fate of my company relies on this trip. And I don't know how busy will I become once I arrived in Japan. But there's one thing I'm sure of, it will be very stressful and demanding. So, whatever happens… when I return, I want to come back to something wonderful. I want to come back to something permanent. All throughout my life, I've been traveling and out of the country all the time. My past relationships suffered too much because of the nature of my job. This time, I don't want to ruin it anymore, because I already found the one. Marianne, I want you to move in with me and marry me. I know I sounded selfish, but I want to be sure that you won't leave me too, just like the other women in my life. If you really love me and care for me, say yes, so that I won't have to worry about my work and relationship. I need security, in case something bad happened in Tokyo, there's something I can look forward to when I go home."

She felt sorry for him and she can understand his doubts, pain, and worry. A man never confessed like this to her before, and he had been sweet and caring in the entire three years they were together. He was handsome, financially stable, caring, very hard-working, and had all the qualities that women of her age were looking for in a man. Out of all the six men that she had a relationship with, Nico was the only one that lasted more than a year. The rest of her relationships were all short-lived. Maybe because she and Nico don't see each other that often and she can 'breath' in their relationship. But what will happen if he never travels anymore? What if he decided to change his job and get a new one that doesn't require traveling anymore? Would they always see each other more often than now? Was she ready to live with him? Was she ready to fully commit? Was she ready to give up her freedom? She had always valued her freedom and solitude… was she ready to give up everything for him? The thought of losing it scared her and gave her cold feet. 

"Marianne? Will you say yes?"

Nico's voice jolted her out of her contemplation. She looked at him candidly while her brows crinkled; her thoughts in terrible turmoil. Her heart beat fast, but not with excitement. She breathed through her mouth and touched her forehead, then looked around her. She glanced back at him again… his eyes were so sincere, so honest and frank. This was every woman's dream, for heaven's sake! There were supposed to be tears of joy, excitement, elation, and fulfillment. But how come she doesn't feel any of these? 

"Nico, I… I love you, and you know that," she began, her voice trembling as she saw the lines on his forehead. "But I'm not ready yet to move in with you."

The smile on his face disappeared; definitely not expecting that response, "I thought you love me, so what's the problem living with me?" Nico asked and remained calm. 

She touched her forehead again and looked down for a moment, gathering her thoughts. She hated it when she was always put on a critical situation and she had to make a very serious decision. Whatever comes out of her mouth next, would affect her relationship, she needed to think clearly and calmly. 

For what seemed like forever, she finally spoke, "Nico, I do love you, but I'm not ready yet to give up my freedom," was her honest reply, and saw that he calmed a bit, but remained serious. "I can't accept your ring, because I'm not yet ready. I hope you understand me. It will be unfair for you if I say yes now when I'm not fully decided." She motioned for him to rise and then gave him a hug after seeing his dejected face. "I love you and I'm not going anywhere. Let's just enjoy our relationship like this and stop worrying."

"Alright, I will accept your reason… for now, but on one condition," Nico expressed in a noticeably deep tone as if asserting his masculinity.

She knew that he never accepts any defeat and won't take no for an answer. Nico hated losing.

"Well, it depends, is it favorable to me?" she asked in a challenging tone and faced him.

"I know that you'll say yes in the future," was his confident remark and brought the ring again to her sight. "Take my ring and wear it, even if you haven't yet said yes. I want people to know that you're already taken so that I'll feel at ease while I'm away from you… and I won't take no for an answer."

Feeling guilty for letting him down, she forced a smile and nodded. "Fine," He reached for her right hand and gently inserted the diamond ring on her finger, and then kissed her.

"I love you, Marianne. And I can't wait for you to finally say yes. Hopefully, by the time I come back you've already made up your mind," was Nico's sweet and assertive comment.

He had still something to say, but she cannot take it anymore. Instead, she reminded him about his trip. "Nico, you have to leave now, you will miss your plane!"

He looked at the expensive watch on his left arm and realized how late it was. "Alright, I'm going. And promise me not to drink too much tonight."

"What do you mean drink too much? I'm having dinner with my mom, and Zoé and I have a client meeting tomorrow," she retorted but knew that he was teasing. "You know that I don't like parties." 

"I know, and I hope you'll have a good time today, even if I can't be with you," Nico just gave her a big grin. "Oh, I'm sorry I don’t have a gift… the ring is supposed to be my gift to you too, but since you haven't said yes yet, it's technically not a gift."

She opened her mouth slightly, not catching entirely what he said. "Please leave now, or you'll not make it on time. And take care of yourself," she said and kissed him. "I love you."

"Alright, bye, and I love you too," Nico replied.

***

By the time she sat in the passenger seat of Zoé's black cabriolet, she knew that she will regret going to this meeting. 

It's only twenty degrees Celsius but the sun felt like its thirty-five and seemed to burn her eyes even if her Wayfarers were blocking it. She shut the door hard and regretted doing it afterward. "Ow!" 

If only her head would stop pounding.

"You okay?" 

She simply nodded to her best friend and put her bag and camera in the back seat. Thankfully, the car's roof was closed. 

"Why are you dressed like that?" 

Her best friend asked while she tried to settle comfortably on her seat. 

Why does Zoé seem to notice everything about her? She peeked through the sunglasses and glared at her.

"You told me we're meeting a very important client today, so I thought I should look presentable," she reasoned out and got worried. "Isn't it enough?" she looked down at her crisp ironed button-down white shirt and black slacks… not a wrinkle on sight. She did not forget to tuck in either and buttoned the shirt all the way to the top. And she looked quite professional in her black blazer. 

Displaying a sarcastic grin, "I know you look hot in blazer and trousers. But have you forgotten what I told you last night? We're going to an island and then we'll take a boat," Zoé explained hopelessly then leaned and looked down. "And don't blame me if you're expensive loafers get wet." 

She eyed her best friend's attire and finally noticed what her best friend meant. 

Zoé was wearing a baby pink button-down shirt with long-sleeves rolled up on the arms, casual-cool skinny ankle jeans, and a pair of white sneakers. 

She paused for a moment and tried to recall when they talk about where they're heading and what to wear. But it never came. 

Last night, she took the opportunity of forgetting her impending engagement and drank like a sailor, since nobody would notice it because it's her birthday. "To tell you the truth, I don't remember what happened after dinner. All I know was, Maman hated the overcooked asparagus and the waiter accidentally served you a white wine. Beyond dessert, I don't remember anymore."

Zoé shifted and faced her, "Yeah, about that… why did you suddenly develop a love for alcohol? And you kept avoiding talking about Nico."

She looked in front of her and touched her forehead. She was not in the mood to talk. She ran her fingers through her short locks and fidgeted more on her seat. What did she say last night? She hoped she did not mention anything about the proposal… 

…The proposal. 

Suddenly, she felt like she cannot breathe. Her hand reached for the neckline and hastily unbuttoned the top two buttons of her shirt. Once she felt comfortably free, she reached for the seatbelt and fastened it. 

"Marianne, I've known you since we're in college," Zoé expressed, released her seatbelt and leaned closer to her. "You don't usually empty a whole bottle of champagne, you love choux a là crème, you hate mushroom, you never ran out of cheese in your fridge, you're allergic to kiwi…" 

She glanced in Zoé's direction, "What's your point?" and interrupted her best friend's litany.

"You're always quiet when something's bothering you. Did you and Nico have a fight?" Zoé asked without hesitating. "I don't mean to pry on your private life, but you looked worried and scared last night. Camille asked me if something bad happened to you. I told her that she has nothing to worry about because I promised her I'm going to talk to you, and help you with your problem if there's any."

"So, you and Maman are conniving now," she retaliated and flashed her best friend a glare.

"Marianne, we love you and we just want to help, if there's something bothering you, we're here."

She knew this discussion won't be over until she told the truth, and knowing her best friend, Zoé won't let her rest until she confessed. 

She removed her shades and looked at Zoé in the eyes, and a heavy sigh escaped her mouth before saying, "Nico asked me to move in and marry him."

Zoé's eyes widened, and then her expression became a mix of excitement and confusion when her eyes searched for the ring and found nothing. "So, what's the problem?"

"I told him I'm not yet ready."

"Oh." 

She quickly put her shades back on and looked straight ahead, indicating for the topic to be over. "So, who's this very important client that we're meeting?" she casually asked, diverting the topic. Luckily, her best friend got the message, sat back properly on the driver's seat then fastened the seatbelt and started the engine. 

Zoé navigated smoothly out of the compound and drove towards the road with ease. It was very light traffic on a Saturday morning. 

"Her name is Eva, she and her fiancée are planning on getting married in two months –"

"What…? Don't you think that's a bit rush? How are you supposed to plan a wedding in that short span of time?" was her unbelievable remark. "Don't tell me… they're inviting also more than 100 guests," the thought of it made her headache worst. 

"Au contraire, they want a very private and intimate wedding, with just close friends and relatives."

"So, where's the venue?" That's what she always asked first. It was one of the most challenging parts of planning a wedding. If outdoors, nasty weather; lucky for them if the venue of the wedding was the same as the reception. If there's more than one venue, it's good to know where she was and how her timing will be. She was not new to wedding chaos and nightmares. She would never forget a certain wedding where she almost fucked up and arrived at the reception at the same time as the newlyweds, instead of arriving ahead of them. She underestimated the travel time and traffic from the Church going to the venue of the reception because she scouted the places on different days. As a photographer, she liked to be prepared and know what was ahead of her. Although nowadays, one can 'virtual scout' a venue using venues' websites and Google maps on satellite, she still preferred going to actual venues for the first time. 

"We're going there now… Eva wants us to have an ocular inspection first, before deciding to use the place. According to her fiancée, it hadn't been used for a long time." Zoé excitedly explained. "It's not even on Google map…"

"What kind of place? And where exactly is it?" She suddenly had a feeling that this would be one of those difficult fussy elite clients.

"It's a 17th-century chateau in Bretagne!" 

A smile formed on her lips. She loved chateaus, it's romantic, and she thought Bretagne's breath-taking landscape and stunning beaches would be the perfect wedding portrait background. She had recently come upon an article about Bretagne when a potential client asked if they can find them a wedding venue with a beautiful sea and a medieval atmosphere. When they estimated the cost and how far it was from Paris, the client backed out. She had not been there and – she paused for a while as soon as her mind processed where it was… 

"Wait… That's almost five hours from here!"

"I know!" was Zoé's excited retort, then hit the gas and sped away, overtaking some cars. "So you better buckle up, creampuff, because I'm planning on getting there in less than four hours."

She flashed a panic glare at Zoé and reached for the roof handle. "You're insane! We're not on the Autobahn!"

"I'm kidding… relax. I know you have a hangover, so I'll drive nice," Zoé teased and slowed down, switching on the right lane. "I told Camille too that I will drive you straight to her place tonight, so I'm planning on delivering you in one piece." 

She furrowed her eyebrows and glanced nervously at Zoé. "My mother didn't mention anything about meeting her tonight."

"She did. You're just too drunk to remember it," Zoé supplied the information and grinned. "Don't worry; I'll happily join you if you're nervous about being interrogated by your mother."

***

It actually took them six hours and a half. 

They had to stop five times: two for comfort stops, one for food, and the other two they needed to pull over because she had to puke. The first four hours of the trip were a nightmare, but after she had put some greasy pizza in her stomach, it became bearable.

"Oh! Eva's already here!" Was Zoé's cheerful remark as her Peugeot parked beside a white Tesla at the nearby parking lot along the seaside. 

"How did you know?" 

"That's her car," Zoé motioned for the expensive wheels. 

She gave it a quick unimpressed glance. After years of working as a photographer, she had a few bad encounters with the rich, aristocrats, elites, socialites, and the so-called nobles of French society. She was glad that France had abolished the monarchy. But there were still some that expected special treatments. She hated social hierarchy and she hated patriarchal society. In her opinion, the patriarchal system had long suppressed French women. She believed that France should take some notes from Scandinavia and focus more on equality between the sexes. It would have been wonderful if all the household chores and child care were divided equally between the man and woman. She wondered how long would it take for society to see the majority of French men pushing the baby strollers and taking their kids to daycare, or simply doing the laundry.

"Hey, Marianne! What are you waiting for?!"

Zoé's voice snapped her out of contemplation. She almost got lost in her thoughts and didn't notice that her best friend had already parked and got out of the car. "I'm coming!" She replied then reached for her bags and camera and took it with her. 

Once she got out, she was greeted right away by the strong rays of the sun and the fresh sea breeze. Coming from the city; it's a luxury to be able to breathe fresh air. She took a deep breath and inhaled it. All her senses were awakened and she suddenly felt something familiar about the smell in the air, she cannot put a finger on it, but she felt that she recognized it. But then, she had never been here, so where was she exactly that time? She shook her head and let it go.

"Wow." They were standing at the port, overlooking the stunning beach. Its rugged coastline was beautiful and breathtaking. The temperature was just perfect. She didn't waste any time, she grabbed her camera and took some pictures at once.

They haven't even strolled that far when a slim young woman wearing black-rimmed eyeglasses, unblemished pale face, and auburn pixie cut hair like hers, except hers was shaved at the side and shorter, approached their way smiling.

"Zoé, I'm glad you guys made it!"

"Eva, so nice to see you again," Zoé greeted with a kiss on both cheeks. "Eva de Laubier, this is Marianne Guiard, my favorite person in the world and the best photographer in the world."

"Nice to meet you," Eva smiled and offered her right hand. 

She shook her hand firmly, just like any other first time clients, she was serious. "Marianne… a pleasure to meet you," but she smiled quickly at the young woman and felt comfortable with her presence instantly when Eva gave her also a kiss on both cheeks.

"I hope you guys had a pleasant trip."

"We enjoyed it very much," Zoé filled in. "Isn't that right Marianne?" 

"Oh, yes. It's absolutely delightful," she retorted and discreetly gave Zoé a sarcastic smile when Eva began to walk and led them towards the dock, where dozens of yachts and boats were parked.

"Rueben is already waiting for us in his boat," Eva explained as they all headed to the man at the end of the port.

She let the two walked ahead, and she trailed behind. Just like Zoé, their client was also wearing jeans, a shirt with a collar, and a pair of sneakers. Now, she itched to take off her blazer but was afraid that her white shirt might get dirty, so she decided to have it on and forget about how overdressed she was. 

Her eyes darted on Eva again; the young woman was around two or three inches shorter than her, and perhaps five or six inches shorter than Zoé. Eva looked just in her late 20's if she was not mistaking, and she admired her for wanting to tie the knot already at this young age.

Perhaps this young woman had really found her soulmate and couldn't wait anymore to spend their lives together. Lucky for them… How she wished she felt that way too towards Nico. She does love him and she knew that he was the ideal husband for her. But she just felt that something was missing. Her ruminating was cut short when they finally reached a boat by the dock and was met by a thin tall man probably in his 60's, wearing a floral buttoned shirt, white cargo shorts, and a pair of blue Sperry. He had a sun-tanned face, a white-trimmed beard, and a fringed of gray-white hair around his balding scalp. Despite his age, he still looked in excellent shape.

"Good afternoon ladies!" He exclaimed upon seeing them, his irresistible smile revealing white teeth. "Welcome to Quiberon!"

"Zoé, Marianne, I would like you to meet, Rueben," Eva said, and the old man greeted everyone by kissing each of them four times on their cheeks. "He is my fiancée's family friend and caretaker of the chateau. He will take us to the island and will be our guide."

"I'm telling you, I haven't been inside that place, so I apologized in advance if anyone of you will ask me how it looked like inside…"

"It's alright Rueben," was Eva's reassuring reply before they all went on board on his small sailboat.

***

The water had been serene since they left the port. But right now the wind was getting stronger and the waves were becoming angry. She began to feel nauseous and really regretted coming on this trip. Boat ride and hangover were now on her 'hate to-do list', she hoped to survive the ride without puking or Zoé would kill her.

"Rueben, can you tell us something about the chateau?" Eva asked.

"Back in the early 1700s, it's an ancestral home. But then it had been unoccupied since the late 1700s. The owner entrusted my family to take care of it. We have been the sole caretaker of the chateau since the late 18th century," Rueben related and sounded proud.

"Really?" Was Eva's surprising comment. "The family must have trusted your family that much."

"Yes, indeed! It had been a tradition. And both families made a pact that our family would take care of it from generation to generation, as long as they needed our service and loyalty," Rueben replied as he tried to navigate the wild sea. "They have been my families' friends ever since they took over as owner of the chateau."

"So, you mean to say, Eva's fiancée's family was not the original owner?" Zoé's curious query.

"No, they're actually the second and current owner," Rueben stated truthfully. "According to my father, his grandfather told him the first owner of the chateau was a noble family."

"What happened to them?" Eva asked suddenly interested.

"My father said it was a French nobleman," the old man began as all eyes were on him. "He married a Milanese noblewoman and had two daughters. When the father died, the mother and the youngest daughter traveled to Milan and married off the daughter to a rich Milanese merchant. And the other daughter…" Rueben hesitated and then made a long paused.

Growing frustrated with waiting, "What happened to her?" she finally chimed in, and they all darted their eyes on her then to Rueben, who seemed to be uncomfortable now that the spotlight was on him. "Tell us what happened to the other daughter, please?" 

"Nobody really knew what happened to the eldest daughter… but…" Rueben hesitated at first, then took a deep breath and eventually resumed. "There's a story spreading from the village… I don't know if it's true. It had been retold from generation to generation. According to the story, the eldest daughter took her own life and jumped off the cliff, because she didn't want to marry the man that her parents had chosen for her. During that time, arranged marriage was the only way to marry off these noble men and women."

"That was terrible," Zoé claimed, slightly shocked, and stared at Rueben. "I'm so thankful that I live now and I can choose whom I want to marry."

"I think it's tragic that she had to end her life, just to avoid marrying a man she didn't love," was Eva's somber comment.

"It's cruel and unjust that she was forced to marry someone she didn't love," she stated in a firm tone, growing irritated at how women were treated unfairly since the beginning. 

"Rueben, do you mind if I ask you why nobody had ever been inside the chateau?" Eva began to ask another question, perhaps sensing that the last topic made them all upset.

"My father told me that the family had never been there either," the old man related. "They chose not to live or use it because the old woman who owned it, the one who took over after the original owner, she wanted to preserve it and didn't want any of her children or great great grandchildren to live there or use it."

Eva's forehead wrinkled. "But why?" 

"Nobody knows. And it's in our contract not to ask," Rueben replied. "That's why I was surprised when you told me that you want to see it and that you have the key."

"You mean to say, you never had the key?" Eva asked, surprised. "I thought you’re the caretaker."

"I am. But I only take care of the surroundings, and the outside of the chateau, but not inside," Rueben replied. "My family's contract is to take care of the surrounding area and make sure the island is protected and preserved from the outside world."

"But why? Why did they not want to open it?" Was Zoé's curious question.

She listened quietly with interest at the exchange of words between the three. She always preferred listening and observing, and will patiently wait until the story was over. But she began to have a growing interest in this family, they seemed mysterious and she wondered if this family was hiding something.

"According to the locals, they said that it was haunted by the eldest daughter of the original owner, that's why nobody dared to live there." Rueben continued, and then his expression grew serious. "Actually, I've experienced some eerie days also while cutting the grass around the chateau."

"What have you seen?" was Zoé's quick remark, eyes growing big.

"I haven't seen anyone… but I felt that someone is inside the chateau," he admitted and looked pale. "Whoa! Better hold on tight ladies, the waves are becoming stronger on this part."

She suddenly felt nauseous and closed her eyes for a moment to calm herself. The remnants of last night's alcohol were still haunting her. She bowed her head and promised herself that she will never touch another bottle of champagne again, and will not let Zoé dragged her again anywhere after drinking. The boat rocked violently back and forth. The waves were stronger and she hated it…

Closing her eyes didn't help…, might as well distract herself. She tried opening her eyes slowly and was amazed by the first thing she saw: the dramatic cliffs, rugged rock formations, and stunning coves. The scenery instantly calmed her, as if she had adored it ever since. 

Suddenly, the whole experience of sitting on a boat and looking at the surrounding seemed intensely familiar, at the same time; she began to freeze, despite the scorching heat. 

"Marianne, are you alright?" 

Zoé asked and gave her a worried glance. 

Not wanting everybody to worry, she nodded. 

That's weird…

"We're almost there," Rueben exclaimed as if trying to relieve the situation.

"Lucky for us, we have the key and maybe, I can make a tea and find cheese once we're inside the chateau," Eva's attempt of distracting them worked, and they all laughed.

***

After several minutes of the difficult and exhausting hike, and thick forest to pass, they finally found themselves passing through the chateau's iron gate and walked on the cobblestone path towards the main entrance. 

Built on the top of an isolated island along the rugged cliffs and surrounded by luscious vegetation and centenary trees, was the two-story horseshoe-shaped chateau. It was grand and dilapidated with several windows with large panes, some were broken. The chateau looked more ancient than she thought. It's pitted and forlorn. The walls were surrounded by a deep moat; its blonde bricks were scarred. But despite its deteriorating appearance the grass and bushes around it were well maintained.

They cast a curious stare towards the rough-hewn wooden door and then to Eva, who's holding the dark wrought-iron key.

"Remember, nobody had ever been inside for centuries, so this day is special because I have the chance to see what my forefathers had not seen for years," Rueben's speech made them all stopped for a moment.

"Oh my god, I think I'm not worthy to open it," was Eva's hesitant reaction and faced Rueben as if handing him the key, but he quickly stepped back, which left Eva doubting. "It's Anne who's supposed to do it, not me."

"I think she trusts you to do it," was Zoé's encouraging remark.

She furrowed her eyebrows and glanced at her best friend then to Eva then back to Zoé. 

Who was this Anne and how and why did her best friend know this person? Why all of a sudden they were talking about another person? 

Am I missing something?

To quench her curiosity, "Who's Anne?" she asked, staring at a nervous Eva. 

"Eva's fiancée…" Zoé replied right away and glared at her, giving her the 'don't fuck it up look'.

"The current owner of the chateau and the one who inherited it after her parents died last year," Rueben interjected.

"Oh." She nodded repeatedly. It slipped her mind. How can she be stupid not to ask Zoé the name of Eva's fiancée? 

And now she not only knew the name, but she was also kind of surprised that it was a woman. They had same-sex clients before, but none of them had been so special and interesting for her, until now. Maybe because she felt that this wedding was kind of unconventional in so many ways. And the fact that she was now standing in front of a haunted chateau, was already bizarre enough. Later on, she also had to ask Zoé why this Anne was not here and left her fiancée alone with the wedding planning… and there's no way they're picking this haunted chateau as the wedding venue! Just by standing outside, it made her hair stand on one end! What more if they were already inside?!

She was distracted when she heard Eva talking on the phone.

"I'm sorry, I made you all wait," Eva said after putting her phone in her back pocket. "But I just have to call Anne and ask her permission one last time if I can open the chateau, and she said yes," then turned to Rueben. "You know, she never told me anything about it. Until I proposed to her and she told me that she'd like to get married in her family's old chateau. For the past two years we've been together, she never mentioned it. Maybe because her family is very private and low profile… that's why when I heard all the things that you said, I felt like I'm invading her family's well preserved precious property." 

"I apologize if I had been arrogantly so open about their family," Rueben looked guilty and regretful. "I thought you already knew since everybody in the village knew the story behind this chateau. Ever since I was a child, I heard the same story, but my father told me never to believe any of it, and not say a word either to anyone. But the story about the family, that was the truth, and I know that you'll soon be a family, so I decided to tell you."

"Well, I appreciate that you trusted me that much," Eva replied sincerely.

"Anne gave you the key, it meant she trusts you that much!" was Zoé's excited retort.

"She's right," Rueben agreed, putting Eva at ease. "And the story about being haunted… well, it did make my family's job easier. Because folks were afraid to come to this island."

As the cheerful conversation among the three transpired, she on the other had been feeling odd and kept having this bizarre sense of familiarity and being haunted. 

Once and for all, she blamed the champagne for all the strange things she was experiencing on this island.

She massaged her right temple and ignored whatever it was that bothered her. She gave her attention instead to Eva, who had now inserted the key to the keyhole and was about to turn it, but her eyes suddenly widened.

"Wait, it's the wrong door," she uttered out of the blue, and all eyes were now focused on her. She averted the stare and looked on her left side. 

What the?!

She glared back at them and was temporarily shocked. "I didn't mean to say it," she blurted and raised her eyebrows then touched her forehead. 

What the frilly fuck was going on?! She began to panic. But then she caught Zoé's worried glare.

She tried to calm down and coerced herself to smile. "I'm sorry, it must have been the boat ride, it shook my brain… please go ahead and open it."

Eva turned around and Rueben followed, but Zoé's eyes never left her. And the way her best friend shot daggers across her, she knew she would be up for an unwanted reprimanding afterwards.

"It's still locked!" Eva expressed full of surprise, and tried again to take the key out, and then inserted it again, and slowly turned it. "It didn't work!"

"Well, I guess Marianne is right after all," Rueben interrupted again. "There's another door on the west side…" he turned around then walked towards the gate and out to the side of the chateau.

Eva hurriedly joined Rueben, while she and Zoé walked behind them.

"I don't know if that's just a coincidence, but you're acting weird… Am I supposed to worry?" Zoé said discreetly as they distanced themselves from Rueben and Eva. "I know you have a hangover, but telling some non-sense to a client is not what I need right now."

She looked at her best friend in the eyes and stopped in her tracks and put a hand on Zoé's arm and halted her. "But it's true! I didn't mean to say it; it just came out of my mouth, like I had an intuition." She earnestly told in a nervous hush tone. They glared at each other for a moment, and they both resumed walking and kept up with the two ahead but at the same time leaving several meters gap, to keep the others from hearing their conversation.

"Hey, guys!" Eva called. "Watch out for the –"

"…Hole! I know," she replied instantly. 

"What hole?" Zoé asked, confused.

And before she can answer, she pulled her best friend by the arm towards her, "That hole," she said, avoiding it by near centimeters. "Watch where you're going… there are badgers here," she warned.

But then she realized the oddity of the situation and turned to look at a pale, shocked, and speechless Zoé staring back at her. "I told you, I don't know what's happening to me. All of a sudden, I felt like I've been here and have known the place before." She too began to worry.

Zoé stared at her like she had grown two heads.

"When we get back home, we're going to have a long talk. But right now, I want you to behave as normal as possible for the next five hours, can you do that?" was her best friend's sarcastic and yet, worried remark.

She gave Zoé a reproving look. "Don't worry; I'm not going to fuck this up."

It didn't take long before they found themselves crossing a bridge and stood now in front of a large rough-hewn solid wooden door.

Not wasting any second, Eva inserted the key and turned it while they all waited with bated breaths behind her. Everyone was surprisingly excited when they heard a loud click. Rueben moved towards the door and helped Eva pushed it. The heavy large splintered wooden door slowly opened with an eerie creaking noise and their noses were assaulted with a rich, musty, earthy, smell. 

After they have recovered from the initial shock of the smell, Rueben stepped forward carrying his flashlight, followed by Eva, Zoé, and her using the flashlight from their phones. It was dark inside, all windows were covered.

As soon as she set her foot inside, she had this eerie feeling of dèjá Vu. Her heart beat faster and she felt disoriented and confused at the same time. Ever since she arrived on this island, she began experiencing weird things that were beyond her control. She hoped and prayed she was still under the influence of alcohol and these things will pass and disappear tomorrow, once she sobered up. 

"Careful!" Rueben warned as they walked carefully through the ground floor. 

She understood right away what he meant when cobwebs brushed her face and hair. The room was thick with dust. 

"Over here!" Rueben shouted again, motioning for them to look ahead and paused.

And they all stood in front of a grand staircase.

"Is everybody alright?" Rueben asked after they stopped at the foot of the stairs. "Before we go upstairs, I want you all to stay together and walk behind me. We're not sure what's up there, so it's better that we stay together, understood?"

"Yes!" They replied in chorus and followed Rueben as he climbed the steps, and they trailed behind.

The sound of their footsteps on the marble stairs echoed off into the vastness. She could also hear the strong wind outside whistling through the house. Huge gusts of wind made the place creak and groan. Suddenly, something flashed in her thoughts as she made her way upstairs. 

A girl walking in front of her carrying a burning candle in a candlestick… she was following her, at this very same stairs. They were walking upstairs… 

She tried to brush away the scene. 

"Ugh…" she felt immediately goosebumps run over her arms. Maybe this place was haunted after all.

"Marianne, are you okay?"

She looked up and saw Zoé already on the top of the stairs. "Yeah, I'm fine," she returned, not wanting to worry her best friend. Zoé turned around and followed Rueben and Eva going towards the left-wing. 

Once she reached the top, the three had already disappeared from her sight. She walked faster to catch up with them. But then her eyes darted around as if in the dark, she was suddenly conscious where she would go. Instead of walking to the left, she went on the opposite wing. And at the end of the corridor, she found a door and walked towards it.

She fumbled with the doorknob and waded through the thick cobwebs. Carefully she opened the door and entered the room. It wasn't cold in here, was the first thing she noticed. She wandered further inside and stumbled across something small, hard, and wooden. 

"Shit!" She exclaimed after losing her phone. She went down on her knees and fumbled around; she took a deep sigh when she finally got hold of her phone. "Whew!" Luckily, it's still working. She stood up and turned around, and was surprised by how clean the floor, she turned her flashlight around and got even more curious how the large room was cobweb free and smelled nothing like the smell on the ground floor. She walked further to the center of it and then paused for a moment as her eyes caught sight of something long and white. 

"What the…?"

Her curiosity was piqued and walked closer to it, focusing her flashlight on the object. Just as her eyes fathomed what it was, she stepped back immediately with a gasp: someone was lying on the bed, was her shocking discovery! Whether it's dead or not, she needed to fetch the others first before checking. Heart pounding in her ears, she tried to scream but nothing came out of her mouth. She wanted to run and leave, but her feet would not allow her to do so. "Fuck!" unconsciously she glanced back at the person on the bed, and this time she managed to see the face: it was a woman. Suddenly everything around her felt familiar, her fear gave way to calm. The next thing she knew, she walked straight to her. Still in shock, she couldn't understand why she felt warm all of a sudden and eager. But all her worries disappeared when her eyes lay on the most beautiful face she had ever seen. And now, her heart was pounding madly not with apprehension but after being captivated by the lovely sight in front of her. 

God, she's beautiful!

She cannot fathom what her feeling right now. It was overwhelmingly intense and hypnotizing. She didn't know anymore if this was real or a dream. The sight of this woman simply took her breath away. She felt something inside her that she never felt before, and it's unexplainable and very strong as if she was losing her mind.

Torn between reality and dream, she can't help it, she wanted to touch her, and so she did. She carefully put her hand on the woman's angelic face and cupped it. It felt warm and soft in her touch; she was too overwhelmed with her feelings that a tear escaped her eye and dropped on the woman's cheek. And the next thing she knew, the woman's eyes opened and stared at her. Heart hammering with anticipation, she held her gaze and felt something familiar in the light of the woman's eyes, as if the woman was looking through her very soul. Whether this was a dream or an alcohol-induced hallucination, she had no desire to wake up anymore. She just wanted to drown in those captivating green orbs.

TBC


End file.
